Meditations on a Crimson Shadow
by BlackCapricornDay
Summary: Before leading his people against the Federation in the Dominion War, he commanded a single ship against the armies of the Klingon Empire. The untold story of Dukat's one-man war, from "Return To Grace" to "By Inferno's Light."
1. Part 1

**Meditations on a Crimson Shadow**

The turbolift rises slowly to Ops. Keva Zeni looks around at the wide variety of aliens in Starfleet uniforms, diligently working at various tasks.

She turns to the doors of the commander's office. "The admiral is in there?" she asks.

"She is," Bashir answers, running his hand through his greying beard. "You know, I'm a bit surprised by this."

"That the admiral is meeting a Cardassian?"

"It's nothing personal," Bashir says, leading Zeni to the door. He taps the chime.

"Enter."

They step inside. A slight, grey-haired woman stares out the porthole as the wormhole opens and closes. She turns to face them.

"Nerys," Bashir says, "this is Keva Zeni. The writer."

Zeni bows her head. "Admiral Kira, it is an honour to meet you. You are a source of inspiration to my people…"

Kira holds up her hand. "Save it. I understand Garak's built up a sort of cult of personality around me, and I want no part of it." She looks closely at Zeni, sizing her up. "He wants you dead, doesn't he?"

"Let's just say that the current regime isn't particularly receptive to having its official version of history challenged. Gul Dukat is a very convenient scapegoat for Cardassia's problems."

Kira's jaw tightens. "And your crime was to show your people that he was a man."

"And I am deeply grateful to the Federation for granting me asylum."

There is silence for a moment. Then Kira says, "But you're wondering why I wanted to speak to you personally."

Zeni nods. "Yes, admiral."

Kira sits at the desk. "I've been a Starfleet officer for more than half my career now. I know that there are those on Bajor who are still suspicious of the Federation, who don't think we should ever have joined. But I think Bajor still has a lot to learn from the Federation. They're relentlessly driven to expand their understanding of the universe. They're never afraid to challenge their own preconceptions of the way things are." She picks up the baseball and examines it. "The way things were."

"You were there, then," Bashir says. "During his war with the Klingons."

"I was," Zeni answers.

"It was all his war, wasn't it?" Kira asks.

"I can only tell you what I saw, Admiral."

Kira gestures to a seat. Bashir sits next to her.

"The _Naprem_ ," Zeni begins. "That's what he called his ship…"

* * *

The kaleidoscopic lights of warp speed give way to a bright starfield. A Cardassian warship flies in a wide arc, leaving a trail of plasma in its wake. Two Klingon birds-of-prey and an attack cruiser follow closely, firing green disruptor bursts in the silence of space. They tear through the hull of the Cardassian ship, leaving clouds of debris.

"Three Klingon ships. They haven't seen us yet," Damar announces. "Request that we get close and hit that attack cruiser hard."

"A capital idea, Damar," Dukat says, focusing intently on the viewscreen as he steers the cloaked ship towards the battle. Soon the aft of the cruiser is looming large in their viewscreen. It fires a volley of torpedoes at the Cardassian ship, which narrowly avoids them with a barrel roll.

"Impressive flying," Dukat observes. "I'd like to know who their helmsman is."

They draw close to the cruiser, flying low over its hull. The bridge comes into view. "Decloak and open fire!" Dukat orders.

The space above the cruiser's bridge shimmers and the _Naprem_ appears, unleashing a salvo of torpedoes into the ship's bridge. The shielding collapses and the bow of the cruiser bursts into flame, which dissipates into space. Dukat takes the ship in a U-turn and they fire on the ship's port nacelle.

"All power to forward shields!" Dukat shouts as the nacelle explodes. The _Naprem_ streaks through the explosion, glowing red with the heat. It closes on a bird-of-prey and fires a torpedo spread, destroying it.

"Excellent shooting, Damar," Dukat smiles. "I'm bringing us to bear on the last bird-of-prey. Stand by to fire on my mark."

The ship wheels to face the remaining Klingon vessel, which streaks towards them, disruptors firing. The _Naprem_ shakes and a console explodes. One of Dukat's men falls to the ground, severely burned.

"Port impulse engines are offline!" Damar reports.

Dukat slams his hand on the intercom. "Yax'et, I need that impulse engine online!"

"Working on it, sir," comes the Kressari's voice. "I keep telling you we need to replace that engine!"

"And we will, but to do that, I need it to work right now," Dukat says through gritted teeth as the bird-of-prey streaks past them. It turns in a wide arc for another pass when a grey disruptor beam tears through its starboard wing, cutting it from the hull. The ship spins away from the battle and detonates.

"Getting a message from the _Karnaka_ ," Damar says. "They've been boarded. I'm getting fifteen… twenty Klingons heading toward their bridge."

Dukat stands and gestures to two crewmen. "Jural, Perak, you're with me. Damar, when I reach the bridge, keep a transporter lock on the Klingon nearest me." He faces Damar. "Remember that idea I had that I was telling you about?"

Damar nods, smiling slightly. "Understood, sir."

He turns to the ship's medic, who is treating the burned crewman. "Ghoren, stand by to receive wounded."

"Aye, sir."

Dukat and his men take the turbolift to the transporter room. They open a weapons locker and pull out disruptor rifles. Dukat holsters a disruptor pistol and takes a bat'leth. They step on the pads.

"Energize," Dukat says.

They materialize on the bridge of the _Karnaka_. A group of Klingons is locked in a firefight with the remnants of the bridge crew. In the centre of the bridge, a massive Klingon holds the ship's gul by the throat. He turns to Dukat, then grins, baring his fangs. He drives his d'k tagh into the gul's heart, then drops his prone body.

"Klingon commander!" Dukat shouts in Klingon. "I am Gul Dukat. I have destroyed your ships. Your warriors are dead by Cardassian hands." He raises his bat'leth. "And you will die by mine."

The Klingon holds up his hand, and his warriors cease firing. Dukat glances at the bridge crew as they move to regroup. The Klingon laughs derisively. "You would challenge Motar, son of N'Koth? Then fight me, Cardassian weakling!" he roars. "If my warriors are to die today, we will die in glorious battle upon a pyre of Cardassian bones."

Motar lunges at Dukat, bringing his bat'leth hard against Dukat's and nearly barreling over him. Motar brings his sword up, forcing Dukat's to one side. Dukat ducks as Motar swings to decapitate him. The Klingon brings his bat'leth down, and as Dukat struggles to parry it, Motar kicks him hard in the abdomen, knocking him backwards to the ground.

Dukat brings his comm unit on his sleeve to his face and hisses, "Damar, now!" Then he rolls to his feet as Motar charges towards him, bellowing. The Klingon raises his bat'leth. Suddenly he freezes, then howls, his eyes wide, and appears to glow faintly orange. Dukat leaps forward and swings his bat'leth. Motar's head rolls to the ground, an expression of terror frozen on his face. His neck sprays pink blood, and his body collapses. The remaining Klingons gape, stunned.

"For Cardassia!" Dukat shouts, drawing his disruptor and shooting one of the remaining Klingons in the head before diving for cover.

"For Cardassia!" comes the reply as the crew and Dukat's soldiers open fire on the demoralized Klingons. Dukat's soldiers move to outflank them. Surrounded, the Klingons are gunned down one by one. Soon, their disruptors fall silent.

Dukat emerges from cover and examines the dead Klingons. Then he turns to the survivors of the bridge crew. "You fought well. Your courage is a testament to the Cardassian people."

A young woman helps an officer to his feet. His right arm is severed at the elbow. "Gul Dukat, on behalf of the crew of the _Karnaka_ , thank you. We owe you our lives."

"What is your name, officer?" Dukat asks.

"Glinn Valesh, sir, of the Eighth Order. The gul and first glinn are dead." He cradles his wounded stump of an arm and glances at the gul's body. "We were heading to the edge of the Demilitarized Zone for counterterrorism operations under Gul Evek."

"A worthy goal," Dukat says. "The Maquis have operated unchecked for too long. But you're in no condition to fight them now. The _Karnaka_ will have to head to Septimus III for repairs. I will rendezvous with Gul Evek myself." He looks at the crew. "What you have seen today is just the beginning. The Detapa Council are beaten men, and they would have you believe we are a beaten people. Well, what happened today? Are we a beaten people?"

"No!" they reply.

Dukat grins. "I think these Klingons would agree with you. Together, we proved that victory is possible. We are a resilient people. We are warriors." The room is silent as the crew watches Dukat with rapt attention. "When you reach Septimus III, tell people what happened today. Let everyone know that this war is far from over. That Cardassia will rise again from these darkest of days. And those of you who can still fight…" he looks around, "I can use anyone willing to join me in the war for Cardassia!"

They cheer. Dukat looks around the bridge in satisfaction, taking in their adulation.

* * *

"A total of eight crew members from the _Karnaka_ have transferred to the _Naprem_ , sir," Damar says.

Dukat adjusts Motar's baldric. "What do you think, Damar? I'm thinking about wearing this from now on."

"Certainly a fine reminder of a great victory, sir."

"It's more than that, friend. It's a symbol to the people of Cardassia." He gestures for Damar to sit at his ready room desk. "Tell me, have you read the book I gave you yet? _Meditations on a Crimson Shadow_?"

Damar stiffens slightly. "No, sir. I read the first chapter. It was… interesting."

"But…?"

"To be honest, I'm not much of a reader. Of novels, anyway. Give me Legate Tekar's treatises on military strategy any day. But Preloc is just… a little too abstract."

Dukat nods. "But you can understand how it's relevant to what we're doing."

"Of course. It's about Cardassia's ultimate victory over the Klingons in an apocalyptic war!" He chuckles. "I think."

"Yes. But what's important is not the content. It's the symbolism. She's drawing on the myths of the ancient Hebitians about the end of days, you know. These are the stories of our people, Damar. They're in our blood." He puts his fist on the desk. "We may have days like today, where we kill some Klingons, destroy some ships. Does it really hurt the Klingons? Not really. There are always more Klingons."

"It certainly seems that way."

"But we can make ourselves into symbols. We can inspire our people! Remind them of the essence of what it means to be Cardassian. That's why I wanted to kill that Klingon in front of the crew. And by the way, that was excellent work."

Damar smirks. "I would love to have seen his face when I beamed his internal organs into space."

"Yes, yes…" Dukat has a faraway look in his eyes. Then he turns to his padd. "This Keva Zeni… is she the _Karnaka_ 's pilot?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. It's nice to finally have a proper pilot. Send her in when you leave."

"I will."

"That will be all." The glinn stands. "And for heaven's sake, Damar, read some literature once in a while. We're fighting for our culture – you ought to at least be familiar with it."

Damar grins. "Yes, sir." He walks out the door.

After a moment, his door buzzes again. "Enter."

An attractive young gil steps in and stands at attention. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Please," says Dukat, "sit down."

She sits. Dukat looks at his padd again. "Gil Keva Zeni of the Eighth Order."

"Reporting for duty, sir. And very proud to be part of this crew, sir."

"At ease, gil." He waves his hand dismissively. "It says here you were involved in the student protests at the Central University."

She does not meet his eye. "It was a more idealistic time, sir."

"No need for excuses. I too supported the movement. The Central Command had become corrupt and self-serving. You may remember that I was the military attache to the Detapa Council in the early days."

"Of course, sir."

"No one could have predicted this war. And yet, here we are. Officially considered vigilantes by a government too craven to defend its people."

She smiles. "Well, you're not alone, sir. You have more supporters than you know."

Dukat looks her up and down. "And you want to be a part of my hopeless, single-handed crusade against the Klingons?"

"I want to fight for Cardassia," she says proudly.

The door buzzes again. Dukat pauses for a moment, then says, "Enter."

Yax'et enters. "I spent some time on the central network through the _Karnaka_ 's computers, sir. Got some leads on fuel. Should be able to get a good deal and still have some money to spare for each of us – the _Karnaka_ gave us a very generous donation." He glances at Zeni.

"Yax'et, this is Keva Zeni. She's going to be our new pilot. Gil Zeni, this is Yax'et, our chief engineer. He has particular experience with K'vort-class birds of prey after working with some Klingon mercenaries for a number of years. Two sisters from a dishonoured house, I believe. Now he's bringing his expertise to us for the sake of our two peoples."

"Cardassian and Kressari stand together," Yax'et says. He turns to Dukat. "There's also a message for you."

"For me? To whom do I owe the pleasure?"

"I'm not sure. Apparently someone wants to get a hold of you – someone with powerful connections. I've forwarded the contact to you."

"Thank you, Yax'et." The Kressari leaves. Dukat turns back to Zeni. "If you're going to fight the Klingons, you'll have to learn to fight with a bat'leth. Why don't you join me in the training chamber at twenty-one hundred hours?"

She looks surprised. "Of course, sir! And, if you don't mind my asking… how did you beat that Klingon?"

Dukat grins. "Come now, Gil Zeni, I don't know you nearly well enough to share my secrets with you. Yet."

"I can be patient," she says coyly.

He eyes her for a long moment. "That will be all." She stands and salutes. His eyes follow her as she leaves.

After a moment, Dukat activates his comm unit. The signal is soon answered, and a familiar face glances at the screen absently. "This is Quark, proprietor of Quark's Bar, Grill, Gaming House and Holosuite Arcade. What can I do for you?"

"Quark, my old friend," Dukat drawls. "What a pleasant surprise."

Quark bares his jagged teeth. "Dukat. What's a real surprise is that you're still alive. Flying around in that deathtrap, fighting the Klingons. Do you know what kind of odds they have against you."

Dukat narrows his eyes. "They're betting on how long before the Klingons kill me?"

"Hey, not my idea. Still, I'll say this. Keep fighting the good fight. Inspire your people, and all that. I heard about that Klingon aristocrat you killed. Word is, his brother has sworn a blood oath against you. He's coming after you with everything he's got. Now, if you could try to hold off meeting him til…"

"Quark!" Dukat interrupts him. "I am a very busy man."

"Fine, fine. We'll leave it to chance." Quark grins menacingly. "Alright. Down to business. I am supposed to tell you that there is a woman who is interested in meeting you." He runs his tongue across his teeth. "She says her name is Yeola, and she's seen what you've been doing and is very impressed. She says she has a proposition for you, which could turn the tide in your favour."

Dukat nods. "I'm intrigued. What can you tell me about this Yeola?"

Quark tilts his head. "Not much. My friend Omag passed this on to me. But he did say he liked the look of her lobes. And she had nice delicate fingers." Quark leans in close to the screen. "For oo-mox."

"Thank you, Quark," says Dukat, leaning away from the screen.

"You can meet her at Omag's trading post as soon as you can. Omag said she didn't seem like the type of woman who you keep waiting."

Dukat steeples his fingers. "Tell me, why should I think this is not a trap? There are many who would like to see me dead."

"Hey, I'm getting paid to deliver this message to you, not to ask questions. What you do with it is your own concern. If it was me, I wouldn't go."

"Thank you, Quark. This has been a delight as always."

"Good to see you too, Dukat. And hey, hang in there. Preferably for just a few more months…"

"Goodbye, Quark." Dukat ends the transmission. He wanders around the ready room, pausing to stare at a painting on his wall, made by his daughter.

* * *

In the training room, clad in a white robe, Dukat holds his bat'leth in a ready stance. He practices a Klingon martial arts move, trying to match the movements displayed on the crude computer manual.

The door slides open and Zeni enters, also wearing a white training robe. Her long black hair is tied behind her head.

"Gil Zeni," Dukat greets her. He takes a bat'leth from the wall and throws it to her. Surprised, she awkwardly catches the sword.

"To fight the Klingons, you need to understand how they think. And the most – I should say, the only advanced Klingon arts are the martial arts."

"I see." She holds the bat'leth in front of her. "But with all due respect, sir, is there really that much to understand about Klingons? They seem like nothing more than violent animals to me."

"I've learned to never underestimate my enemies." He watches her swing her bat'leth. "Yes. Get used to the weight. It's not balanced for a Cardassian, but it possesses its own internal logic." He swings his sword.

Zeni attempts to mimic the motion. "The balance is off. I trained in hand-to-hand combat at the Central College, but not like this. Am I doing it right?" She swings a few more times.

Dukat says, "Not bad. But the key is to see the bat'leth as an extension of yourself. The unification of warrior and blade, as the Klingons say. Here." He steps behind her and holds her arms, his lips close to her ear and neck. "Like this."

He guides her hands in a slicing motion. "That's it." He releases her arms, and she stares into his eyes for a moment. He says, "Now. Let's spar."

"This weapon is so barbaric," she complains.

"One might say the same thing about this ship," Dukat says, moving forward in a Klingon attack stance. She parries his thrust. "And yet she's kept me alive so far."

"I don't see how you can live on this ship. It's cold, damp, uncomfortable." She repeats his movements, and he steps backwards, parrying. "So," she asks. "Is this something you do for all your crew? Teaching them the intricacies of Klingon swordsmanship?"

"To some degree. But I see talent in you, Gil Zeni." Dukat comes towards her in a more aggressive pattern, and she struggles to block his attacks and backs toward the wall. "I think you can go far."

She feigns an opening, and he brings his bat'leth in towards her side. Then she catches it in her sword's blades and twists, trying to wrench it from his hand. He hangs on and forces her bat'leth above her head with his. She backs against the wall and tosses her sword aside, pressing her hand against the side of his face.

He drops his bat'leth and pulls her robe open. She stares up at him, her grey skin flushed. He leans in and kisses her, and she returns his kiss passionately. They hastily pull each other's robes off, and he pushes her against the wall and enters her, kissing the ridges on her neck. She breathes deeply as he thrusts, still holding her hands above her head. Soon she orgasms, sighing.

Then he comes, pulling her body close to his. Afterwards they sit at the base of the wall.

"Thank you, Gil Zeni," says Dukat, putting his arm around her shoulder and pulling her close. "That was much-needed."

She gazes at him, smiling in spite of herself, running her fingers along the ridges on his chest. "I can't believe this. If someone told me a few days ago that I'd be Gul Dukat's lover… You know I've had a crush on you for a long time. All my girlfriends in the military do. I mean, you're out here, the only one man enough to take on the Klingons…"

He takes her hand. "Are you flattering me to advance your career, Gil Zeni?"

"Maybe." She smiles mysteriously. He kisses her again. Then she stands, putting her robe back on. "I should be going."

"Did I say you were dismissed, gil?"

She grins. "I'm available to my gul whenever he needs me."

* * *

The _Naprem_ docks at a Ferengi trading post orbiting a large asteroid, alongside several ships of varying designs. The ship's airlock opens and Dukat enters the cold, damp station, flanked by Damar and Yax'et. An obese Ferengi greets him, backed by a pair of angry-looking Nausicaans.

"Gul Dukat! Welcome to my station. I've heard so much about you!"

"All lies, I can assure you," Dukat says. "So – who is this mystery woman who wants to see me?"

"I'll tell her to meet you at the bar. But first, why don't you and your men relax? We have a fine selection of kanar. And females."

Damar glances at Dukat. He says, "Tell me, Omag, how do I know you're not leading me to a roomful of Klingons ready to disembowel me?"

"If I did, I'd be out a lot of latinum! My money's on you staying alive for three more weeks." He laughs a high-pitched, nasal laugh. "It's twenty to one!"

"Have some respect, Ferengi," Damar barks. "You're talking to Gul Dukat."

Dukat holds up his hand. "Easy, Damar." To the Ferengi, "Take us to the bar."

"Come with me." Omag and the Nausicaans turn, and they follow suit. "And remember, all payment should be in gold-pressed latinum. We're not accepting the Cardassian _lek_ anymore. It's nothing personal. Just business."

* * *

Dukat sits at the bar, nursing a drink. Damar, already several drinks in, is talking intently to a scantily clad Klaestron escort over the obnoxious Ferengi music. Across the room, Yax'et is negotiating for fuel with a group of Pakleds. The burly Orion bartender rinses a glass.

The door slides open, and Omag walks in with a short woman in a brown hood. He gestures to Dukat and leads her toward him.

"And don't forget my offer," he says. He slaps her ass, and she does not react. He leaves.

The woman sits next to him. "Gul Dukat. I've been wanting to meet you for a long time. I am Yeola," she says in a soft voice. She pulls her hood down. Her skin is pale white, her eyes a piercing violet.

Dukat narrows his eyes. "I know what you are. You're a Vorta. Part of the Dominion."

She smiles. "I wasn't sure you'd know. Yes, I am. And I want to talk to you."

He unholsters his disruptor and holds it near his hip, under the bar, trained on the alien. "You can save it. I have no interest in talking to you murderers after what you did to my people at the Omarion Nebula."

She holds up her hands. "I might remind you that you attacked us, not the other way around. And I thought you of all people would shed no tears over the Obsidian Order's destruction. But by all means, shoot me. My superiors told me there was a forty-five percent chance you would."

"Why is everyone betting on my life?" Dukat re-holsters his gun.

"Because you're a fascinating man, Dukat. You're a man of destiny." She leans closer. "I have information you will want to hear."

"Just replace me with a Founder, and spare me your manipulation. My people have suffered enough because of you." Dukat downs his remaining kanar and stands to leave.

In a low voice, she says, "The Klingons have been supplying the Maquis with weapons and cloaking devices for several months now. The Maquis are planning an attack on the Bryma colony. If you move quickly, you can stop them."

Dukat peers at her. "How do you know that?"

She stands and puts her hand on his arm, leaning close to him. "Let me prove myself to you. I can help you configure your sensors to detect cloaked ships."

"You want me to take you aboard my ship?" Dukat asks. "What do you get out of this?"

"We have a common enemy in the Klingons."

"An enemy that is likely to redouble their aggression against us if there's even the slightest hint that we're working together." He looks around. "If anyone knew who you were, that you were meeting me here… that information would be very valuable. The Central Command would have a convenient way to paint me as a traitor in league with an enemy of Cardassia."

Yeola glances around at the bar. "I wouldn't be too concerned about that."

"How can you be sure of that? Your species may not be particularly well-known in the Alpha Quadrant, but that Ferengi, Omag – he will have well-placed sources, and he'll make it his business to know."

Yeola looks serene. "Believe me, I am well aware of the need for absolute secrecy surrounding our meeting."

Agitated, Dukat asks, "Then why meet here? Unless…" He trails off, staring at her.

She smiles slightly. "Omag's problems with the Orion Syndicate are well-known. No one would be surprised if he and his assets were to suddenly disappear."

He narrows his eyes. "For that to be effective, it would have to happen soon. Very soon."

"Time is of the essence, Gul Dukat. Make your decision." She stares at him impassively.

Dukat beckons to Damar and Yax'et. To Yeola, he says, "I'd rather not let you die, but I can't have an agent of the Dominion on my ship. You understand my position."

Her expression does not change. "Of course. It's no matter. I have fulfilled the will of the Founders."

He stands, dropping some latinum on the bar. "Your Founders must have known they were sending you to your death."

"My life is theirs."

Yax'et approaches, and Damar follows, looking back at the Klaestron. "We leaving already?" he asks Dukat, his words slurring. He peers at Yeola, noticing her for the first time. "Hello! Gul Dukat, who is your fine friend tonight?" He burps. "I'm Damar."

Dukat asks Yax'et, "Did you close the deal?"

"Yes, sir. The fuel's aboard their ship."

"We'll try to beam it aboard. Come on, we're leaving." He puts his arm around Damar and leads him away from Yeola.

"I like her," Damar murmurs. "Who is she?"

"No one." Dukat looks back, and pauses, staring at the alien. Her expression is unreadable.

He says to her, "On my ship, it's my rules. If you don't follow them unquestioningly, I will personally throw you out the airlock."

"I understand."

He glares at her. "In fact, I may just throw you out the airlock if I change my mind about this."

"I will obey your command, Gul Dukat," she says.

"Well, come on then." She joins them as they walk towards the door.

"Throw her out the airlock?" Damar asks. "Why would you _do_ that?"

Their path to the airlock is blocked by Omag and the Nausicaans. He leers at Yeola. "Leaving so soon, my dear?" He turns to Dukat. "You don't think you can just take a creature like Yeola from me without compensation, do you?"

"She's not your property, Ferengi. Get out of my way."

Omag nods to his Nausicaans, and they sling their disruptor rifles on their back and clench their massive fists, lumbering forward. Dukat, Damar, and Yax'et edge back. Yeola pulls a disruptor pistol from her cloak and fires two white bolts in rapid succession. The Nausicaans collapse. Omag lets out an ear-splitting shriek and curls to the floor, cradling his lobes in his hands. "Don't kill me! I'll make it worthwhile! I'm very wealthy –"

She shoots him in the head. "We need to get to the ship, now."

Dukat and Damar exchange stunned glances, and they follow her as she walks over the prone alien figures. He activates his comm unit. "Dukat to _Naprem_. Prepare to disembark immediately. We're on our way."

"Aye sir," comes Zeni's voice.

"And scan all Pakled vessels for a large dilithium reserve. When you find it, beam it aboard."

"Sir?"

"Trust me, they're not going to need it."

They cross through the airlock and it seals behind them. "We're aboard. Get us out of here."

"Sir, the station's telling me to stand by disembarking," says Zeni through the comm.

Dukat turns to Yax'et. "Can you do a manual override?"

"Shouldn't be too hard." He accesses a console. "I should be able to force an emergency undock procedure… Just need to convince the system we're having a warp core breach… Standard Ferengi encryption protocols… Done." There is a hissing noise and the docking clamps unlock. Dukat says, "Take us out, full impulse."

He strides towards the bridge, the others close behind. When he arrives, the station is receding on the viewscreen. Suddenly there is a green flash, and it breaks apart.

Zeni turns to him from the helm. "What happened? Was it a trap?"

"I hope not." Dukat peers at Yeola through the corner of his eye. Then, to Zeni, "Engage cloak and set a course for the Bryma system, Warp 7."

"Aye, sir."

The ship ripples and disappears.

* * *

It is quiet on the bridge. Zeni suppresses a yawn as she gazes at the stars streaking by the viewscreen and listens to the intermittent sounds of Yeola working on the sensor console. Zeni glances at her as she opens a port on the lower side of the sensor console and attaches a strange device. It begins to glow a pale blue, and Yeola closes the panel.

They sit in silence for a long moment before Zeni says, "The exciting life of intergalactic vigilantes."

Yeola looks at her impassively. "Yes."

Zeni regards her. "Who are you? Where do you come from?"

"I am no one," Yeola replies.

"What are you doing to the sensor array? Some kind of upgrade?"

Yeola does not answer. Eventually she says, "Are you a patriot, Gil Zeni?"

"Of course."

Yeola's alien, purple eyes peer at Zeni. "What if I told you I could make Cardassia great again? Greater than you can possibly imagine?"

Zeni smiles. "First I'd ask how. Then I'd ask what you wanted in return."

"I want nothing. That greatness is mine already." She taps her comm unit. "Yeola to Dukat. Have Yax'et replicate those instruments I specified, and meet me at the fore sensor array."

"I will be there," he replies. Yeola smiles enigmatically at Zeni and walks to the turbolift, nearly bumping into a very pale Damar on her way out. He stares at her as she leaves, then slumps into the captain's chair.

"What was that woman doing on the bridge?" he asks.

"Modifying our sensor array, sir. She also installed a holo-filter device so that all of us look like Klingons when we hail anyone. Or to make her look like a Cardassian. Gul Dukat told us all to give her our full cooperation. But also to watch her carefully." She pauses. "Sir, if I may ask: who is she?"

"I have no idea. Gul Dukat was supposed to meet her at the bar. She shot the Ferengi DaiMon. And I think she blew up the station."

"I've never seen her species before," Zeni says. "I don't know if I trust her."

"Jealous, Gil Zeni?" Damar asks.

"What? No, it's not that… I just…"

"If Gul Dukat trusted her enough to bring her on the ship, that's good enough for me, and should be good enough for you."

"Yes, yes. Of course."

They sit in silence for a long time. Eventually the turbolift opens and Dukat and Yeola enter. Dukat says, "Gil Zeni, lay in a course for the Arawath system. Maximum warp."

"Course laid in."

"Engage." She watches as Dukat and Yeola examine the sensor station. Then Dukat turns to Damar, who cedes the command chair to him and mans the tactical station.

"Feeling alright, Damar?" Dukat asks.

"Dr. Ghoren gave me a stimulant before my shift. It helped. Sort of. And he gave me the usual lecture about my health."

"Well, you know he's right. You're not a young man anymore, Damar."

"Yes, well, if I live long enough to have liver problems, it means we've succeeded in our mission."

Dukat chuckles. "Yes, that's true." He turns to Yeola. "Are we within sensor range of the Arawath system yet?"

"Entering sensor range now," she reports. "I'm reading no activity."

"No surprise there," Zeni says. "There's been a Klingon warship active in that sector for months. It's brought civilian traffic to a halt."

"Bring the upgrades online."

"Transphasic sensors activated," Yeola announces. "No activity… wait. I'm getting something. Bearing 444 mark 12. It could be nothing."

"Bring us in closer, Zeni. Let's see what we've got."

"Bringing us in."

The stars continue to streak by in front of them. "What are we supposed to be looking for?" Damar asks.

"You'll know soon enough."

Yeola's console beeps. She turns to Dukat. "It's a positive, sir. I'm sending the coordinates to tactical."

"What am I looking at?" Damar inquires.

"You'll see. Gil Zeni, drop out of warp. Damar, lock on to those coordinates, and drop cloak and open fire on my mark."

"Target locked."

Dukat steeples his fingers. "Now."

The _Naprem_ decloaks and fires a spread of photon torpedoes. They explode against a seemingly empty area of space, and there is a bright flash of light. Pieces of a Klingon bird of prey materialize from the explosion.

Damar and Zeni stare at the screen, shocked. Dukat smiles at Yeola. "Very impressive, Yeola. You have proven your usefulness."

"Thank you, Gul Dukat." She hesitates. "I expect you're considering killing me now."

He eyes her. "It had crossed my mind." To Damar and Zeni, "Yeola is a Vorta. A member of the Dominion. She's offered to help us since, as she claims, we have a common enemy in the Klingons."

Yeola bristles. "You said you would not tell your crew."

"I trust my crew implicitly, Vorta. They deserve to know."

"Perhaps the Cardassians. But the Kressari –"

"My ship. My rules." He draws his disruptor and points it at her. "Damar, Zeni, tell me – what do you think I should do?"

Damar eyes the Vorta. "Can she be of any further use to us?"

"I have a great deal of intelligence I can offer you," she says emotionlessly.

"I don't know," Zeni says. "They destroyed the Obsidian Order. They've killed thousands of Cardassians. And they're the reason the Klingons attacked us in the first place. I wouldn't take the risk."

Dukat keeps his disruptor trained on her for a moment, then lowers it. "I'm not prepared to squander a proven military asset just yet. She stays. For now." To Zeni, "Resume course for Bryma. And drop a message buoy in the wreckage of that ship. Tell the Arawath colony we've solved their Klingon problem."

* * *

"Do you really trust her?" Zeni asks, stroking Dukat's arm as they lie in bed.

"Of course not. But the fact is, we don't have many allies right now. We need all the help we can get. And I'm certain she hasn't told us everything she knows about the Klingons yet. She's well aware we'd have no reason to keep her alive if she did."

"But why would the Dominion want to help us?"

"I think she's telling the truth that they're concerned about the Klingons. They know that as long as the Klingons are preoccupied with us, they can't mount an invasion of the Gamma Quadrant."

She rolls over and props her head up on her hand. "What if it's more than that? She said something to me on the bridge. Something about making Cardassia greater than we can imagine. What if they want to make Cardassia part of the Dominion?"

Dukat runs his hand on her side. "Well, if that's true, they've come to the wrong place. If they wanted to do that, they'd be better off sending some Founders to infiltrate the Council." He leans in. "But enough about her. I believe you said you'd try that Bajoran move I told you about?"

Over the intercom, Damar says, "Approaching Bryma system. Gul Dukat to the bridge."

Zeni grins and shrugs. "Another time, perhaps," Dukat says.

"Definitely." They press their palms together.

A few minutes later, they are on the bridge. Zeni replaces Damar at the helm, and Dukat takes the captain's chair. "Status report."

"I'm reading one _Galor-_ class warship and two _Hideki-_ class fighters in orbit of Bryma," Yeola reports. "No sign of cloaked ships. But they will be coming."

Dukat says, "That's Gul Evek's ship, the _Vetar_. Damar, drop cloak."

"Decloaking. The _Vetar_ is powering weapons."

"Open a channel," Dukat orders.

"Channel open."

"Gul Evek, my old friend," Dukat says. "Sorry to alarm you."

Evek's face appears on the viewscreen. "Dukat! You old bastard. What do you think you're doing, sneaking up on me like that?"

"One can never be too careful in these times. I can't exactly be public with my itinerary."

Evek laughs. "No, I suppose not. You know, the Detapa Council considers you a threat to their legitimacy. I'm supposed to arrest you on sight."

"And is that an order you intend to follow?"

"Hah. Hardly. They'd string my body up in the parade square in Bryma City. There's no love for the Detapa Council out here. You, on the other hand, are considered one of the last of the true patriots."

"Well, I've heard they hold you in similar esteem."

Evek sighs. "I do what I can to protect my home. But the terrorists are bolder every day, and the Council refuses to commit any resources to help us. They consider the DMZ colonies to be a lost cause." He pauses. "But we can talk politics over a bottle of kanar. First, let's get you off that piece of Klingon garbage."

"I would appreciate that," Dukat replies. "It's been a long time since my men breathed fresh air. And we have much to discuss."

"Understood. I'll have a maintenance crew take a look at your ship. Meet me at the primary barracks in Bryma City in an hour." He nods. "It's good to see a friendly face. Evek out."

Zeni says, "I had no idea things were so desperate out here."

"For all their talk about freedom of the press, the Detapa Council are just as selective as the military about what the Cardassian people hear about," Dukat muses. "Hopefully we can prevent things from getting worse. Take us in to Bryma and engage landing protocols."

"Aye, sir."

* * *

Dukat and Evek sit at a table on the roof of the command compound in the main barracks overlooking Bryma City. Through a thick layer of yellow clouds, the massive sun sets over a distant mountain range, and the spires and obelisks of the city skyline cast shadows on the streets below.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Evek asks, sipping his kanar.

"It reminds me very much of home," Dukat nods.

"For me, this is home," Evek says wistfully. "My ancestors were among the original settlers here two centuries ago. They built this world from a wasteland inhabited by primitive tribes to the most prosperous colony in the sector, and one of the best-performing economies in the Empire." He points to a large obelisk in the city square. "That monument commemorates the dead from the Fourth Order during the Federation war. They saw more combat than any other order during that war, and single-handedly kept Cardassia's front secure. Two of my sons' names are inscribed there."

Dukat leans forward. "Bryma will never fall. You have my word."

Evek shakes his head. "With the Klingons behind them, the terrorists have grown bolder than ever. They know that if Bryma falls, the sector is theirs. We need to protect our women and children from those creatures. If they are mounting an attack, we need to be prepared to evacuate."

"Evacuating ten million people on short notice will not be easy. And I suspect the Detapa Council will be of little use."

"I've spoken to a contact in the Federation. Jaresh-Inyo may be as unwilling to stand up to the Klingons as the Council, but I may be able to secure a Federation escort in the event of an emergency evacuation."

Dukat sips his kanar. "It sickens me to rely on the Federation."

"It makes a mockery of my sons' sacrifice. And yet, I've met good men in the Federation. In my opinion, the problem is their form of government. Civilian rule. Democracy. It encourages weakness, delay, dithering, and compromise. The true purpose of government is to maintain order, which requires the iron will of military men. The Federation has poisoned our people with their perverse ideals. Still, we must rely on them. Believe me, my friend, if there was another option I would take it."

"We don't seem to have many allies, do we?"

"Well, you are here. That's something, at least." He takes a drink. "Tell me about this contact of yours. The one with intelligence on the terrorists' activity."

Dukat leans forward and lowers his voice. "Let's just say she represents powerful interests with a stake in seeing the Klingons stopped."

"A Romulan?"

"No. Other interests. From beyond the Bajoran wormhole."

Evek's eyes widen. "I see. Potentially a very powerful ally."

"And a very dangerous one."

"These are dangerous times."

A heavy-set man walks to them. Evek stands and says to Dukat, "Well, the good news is we may be able to confirm what your contact said about an impending Maquis attack. Dukat, I'd like you to meet Gul Madred. He's been in the process of extracting information from a high-ranking Maquis we captured recently."

Dukat and Madred shake hands. "Yes, I believe we met once. On Bajor, perhaps?"

"Yes," Madred answers. "It was shortly after you were installed as prefect. I was a glinn under Gul Darhe'el at the time." He turns to Evek. "I regret to tell you that the captive has been harder to break than I'd anticipated."

"Perhaps Gul Dukat should have a chat with her – he's had some experience getting Bajorans to talk. Take him to the captive. Dukat, you and I will talk tomorrow. I told my wife to prepare dinner for you."

"You're too kind, Evek." He finishes his kanar and turns to Madred. "Lead the way."

Madred takes him through the barracks to a jump ship. They enter the craft and Madred says, "Detention complex, Ulenian mountain range."

As the ship speeds away from the city, Dukat asks, "Tell me about this prisoner. Who is she?"

"She's a high-ranking Maquis commander known as the Vedek. After defecting from Starfleet, she apparently experienced some kind of religious awakening, and has indoctrinated her cell with her violent, extremist beliefs."

"Ah yes, the Bajoran religion. Try as we might, we could never get them to abandon it."

"It's superstitious nonsense, if you ask me."

"Perhaps. But I've been studying their apocalyptic literature lately. There are many fascinating parallels with our own Hebitian mythology, which is perhaps less surprising now that we know about the ancient ties between our two peoples. I believe that a proper use of their religion may prove useful in weakening her convictions."

Madred smirks. "If you want to further weaken her convictions, I can give you some time alone with her. She is quite beautiful, and I've heard you like your Bajoran women."

Dukat's smile melts, and he punches Madred in the jaw. The other gul falls to the floor and shields his face with his arm.

"I'll have you know that my Bajoran mistresses were with me because they loved me!"

"You can't hit a gul of the Fourth Order!" Madred wipes the blood from his mouth and climbs to his feet.

"You're welcome to lodge a complaint with Gul Evek." The ship docks with a compound built into the side of a mountain and the door slides open. Silently, Madred leads Dukat through a turbolift to a dimly-lit room. A naked Bajoran woman hangs from her wrists in the centre of the room. Four lights shine on her face.

Madred glares at Dukat, then leads him into the room. "Gul Dukat, meet Ro Laren."

"Thank you, Gul Madred. If you would be so kind, I would like to have a private chat with Ms. Ro."

Madred scowls and returns to the lift. Dukat sits at a desk under the lights and examines the prisoner. Her face is swollen under her dark hair. A small device has been implanted in her chest. Gradually, she opens her eyes and looks at Dukat. She starts to laugh.

"May I ask what's so amusing?"

She stares past him. "No one can say you don't have a sense of humour. The former prefect of Bajor! Your sense of irony is impeccable."

Dukat peers at her. "My sense of irony?"

She casts her eyes upward. "I will meet this test as I have met every test you have sent me, with joy and gratitude. My imperfections will be seared away, leaving only the purity of my _pagh_."

Dukat stands and walks towards her. "The Prophets can't hear you, Laren. And if they could, they wouldn't help you. There's only you and me."

"I will be an instrument of your will," she continues. "The impurities of my former life will be purged." She begins chanting an ancient Bajoran prayer.

"'The poison must be purged away, so that the land may be reborn,'" Dukat quotes.

She stops chanting and stares at him for the first time. "Talnot's Prophecy of the Final Days."

"These are your final days, Laren," Dukat says in a low voice. "And your Prophets have abandoned you to your enemies. To me. Just as they abandoned your people to Cardassia. You think they care about your people, but it seems quite clear to me: they want you to suffer."

"You're not Gul Dukat at all. I know who you are." She stares into his eyes. "You are the Kosst Amojan."

Dukat's eyes widen, then he grins darkly. "Yes. I am the Kosst Amojan. I am the Pah-wraith. The Prophets have abandoned you, but I have come to set you free."

She spits on him. "You've come to tempt me."

"You misunderstand, child," Dukat says. He walks towards her and puts his hand on her face. "I am here because I love you. To show you the true love of the Pah-wraiths. You believe the Prophets consider the Bajoran people their children. Tell me, what parent would stand by while their child is treated as you have been treated?"

"Get away from me, evil one," Ro says, her voice shaking.

"But I," he whispers, his face inches from hers, "I have come to set you free. To show you the benevolence of the true gods of Bajor."

"No." She struggles against her restraints.

"Embrace the love of the Kosst Amojan." He presses his body against hers, his hand on her back. In her ear, he whispers, "Tell me what the Maquis are planning. Confess your failings to me, and I will release you."

"Be GONE!" She butts him in the temple with her forehead, and he stumbles away from her. He glares at her for a moment, clutching his head, then walks back to the desk. "Your faith is strong, but misguided," he tells her, adjusting the controls on the desk. "I regret that I have to do this, but it's for your own good." He activates the implant in her chest, and her body contorts in pain.

"I…" she gasps. "I am an instrument of the Prophets' will…"

"Think about what I've said," he tells her. "I will be back."

He leaves the interrogation chamber, and the door closes on her screams.

* * *

"My word, Mirani, this is delicious. Gul Evek, I must say that you have married the greatest cook in the entire Cardassian Union," Dukat says.

Mirani blushes. "Are you sure it's not because you've gotten used to eating whatever garbage comes from those Klingon replicators?"

"I stand by what I said. Don't you agree, Yeola?"

The Vorta, clad in a low-cut purple dress, looks around the luxurious dining room. "Actually, I have no sense of taste."

"What a shame," Madred says. "It is exquisite."

"I prepared the yamok sauce," Madred's wife adds.

"I'm certain it's quite delicious." Yeola glances at Dukat.

They continue to eat, and Evek and Madred's children whisper to each other. Suddenly, Madred's daughter says, "Father, why is there an alien at the table?"

"Jil!" Madred hisses. "Mind your manners."

Evek chuckles. "A good question." He looks at the young girl. "Yeola is a friend of the Cardassian people. We have very few friends in these times."

"Will she help us kill the terrorists and the Klingons?"

Yeola smiles. "I want to help, child. You see, I know that the Cardassian people are the natural rulers of the Alpha Quadrant." The child beams.

Madred turns to Dukat. "I must compliment you on the work you did with the Bajoran terrorist. I never would have thought to use their primitive superstitions against them!"

Dukat grins. "One of the issues with being an enlightened race is that we sometimes forget the power that superstition has over the minds of more backwards peoples. The terrorist thought I was a demon from Bajoran mythology. So, naturally, I ran with it, and it proved quite effective, as you can see." He gestures to the bruise near his eye. "I'll have to study the Bajoran texts further – I think I can play a rather effective demon." He turns to the children. "Boo!" They giggle.

Evek's young son says, "Father, I'm finished eating. May I play with Gul Madred's boys?"

"Yes, you may," Evek tells him.

"Father, may we go too?" Jil asks Madred.

"First you must help your mother and Mirani with the chores."

The women stand. "Come, girls," Mirani says. "Let's clear the table and let the men speak with Yeola."

"How come she doesn't have to do chores?" asks one of Evek's daughters.

"Don't question your mother."

Evek presses his palm against Mirani's as she leads the girls into the kitchen. The three guls and Yeola adjourn to Evek's sitting room, and Evek pulls an ornate bottle from an antique liquor cabinet. "This is a bottle of Coric '22, given to me by Legate Turrel. It is one of only four in existence." He pops the cork.

"Evek, I'm honoured," Dukat says. "You certainly know how to make a man feel welcome."

"It's not often that we have such esteemed guests," Evek grins. "And if the Maquis overrun this colony, I don't want to die without having tasted it."

"I can understand that."

Evek pours four shots and gives one to each of them. "I'm afraid it will be lost on me," Yeola tells him.

"If you're a friend of Cardassia, you should experience the best of Cardassian culture," he replies.

They drink, and Evek looks out the studio window at the boys playing in his yard underneath the yellow clouds. "There," Evek says to Yeola. "Do you see that? That is why we fight. For our families – our future. Do you have a family, Yeola? A husband? Children?"

"I'm a clone. I was bred in a facility on the Vorta homeworld in the Gamma Quadrant. While I've worked with other Vorta who I would consider friends, my loyalty is to the Founders alone."

"I see." He turns from the window. "In time, I hope you will come to gain an appreciation for the Cardassian way of life. Especially if you accept what I am about to propose."

She raises an eyebrow, and Dukat and Madred peer at him quizzically. Evek says, "Please, sit down."

They sit, and Evek takes another sip of his drink, and closes his eyes and nods. "Exquisite." He looks up. "Gentlemen, Bryma is doomed. I've exhausted my contacts in the Detapa Council, but they tell me they simply cannot reinforce our position. It's only a matter of time before the Maquis or the Klingons realize it."

"It's a short-sighted decision," Madred says angrily. "If Bryma falls, refugees will pour in from across this sector to the homeworld. Cardassia already can't feed its people. How can they handle millions more destitute migrants?"

Evek replies, "They can't see it on the homeworld under the protective shadow of the fleet, but the Empire is on the verge of complete disintegration. We cannot rely on the Federation or the Romulans to stand up to the Klingons. My best strategic estimate is that we will lose ninety percent of our territory within the next decade. The humanitarian consequences, of course, will be catastrophic."

Yeola nods. "The Founders have made a similar assessment."

"Then they also know that with Cardassian space under Klingon occupation, Terok Nor and the wormhole will be an easy target. They will come for you next."

"That's why the Founders have sent me to help Gul Dukat."

"Gul Dukat may be a great man. A hero of Cardassia, even. But he is only one man."

"Evek," Dukat says, "What are you suggesting?"

"I am suggesting a more formal level of cooperation between our peoples. With the Dominion's help, we can secure our borders, and prevent the Klingons from ever setting foot on Dominion soil."

Yeola takes a drink and looks puzzled for a moment. Then she replies, "I have attempted to make overtures for such an agreement with your government. They refuse to respond to us. They cite the Omarion Nebula incident – they say we can't be trusted."

"What they're really afraid of is further provoking the Klingons," Evek says. "Through their cowardice and unwillingness to protect their people, the Detapa Council have lost all legitimacy as Cardassia's government. We need a real leader. Someone whose courage embodies the will of the Cardassian people." He turns. "That leader is Gul Dukat."

Yeola and Madred stare at him. "Are you suggesting I lead a Dominion-backed coup d'etat against the Cardassian government?" he asks.

"You are the perfect person to do it. You're a hero on Cardassia, Dukat. People will listen to you if you tell them this is in our best interests."

Dukat glances at Yeola. "No offence, but in our current state, we'd be the junior partner in that arrangement. How do we know we wouldn't be completely subsumed into the Dominion? I won't have history remember me as the man who cost Cardassia its sovereignty."

"What sovereignty?" Evek asks. "We are a civilized people on the verge of being overrun by barbarians. The alternative is leaving our children to the mercy of the Klingons."

Yeola looks at Dukat. "Being part of the Dominion does not mean sacrificing your sovereignty. We have races in the Dominion which maintain considerable latitude over their affairs, such as the Dosi and the Karemma. You could maintain your autonomy except when it conflicts with the will of the Founders. And in exchange, we will guarantee you supremacy over all the races of the Alpha Quadrant."

Dukat slams his glass on an end table. "This is insane."

"Think about your people, Dukat," Evek shouts.

"I am thinking about my people! I will not sell them out to the Dominion or to anyone." He gestures at Yeola and stands. "Can't we have an alliance of some kind? A military pact, short of Cardassia becoming a full part of the Dominion?"

"The Founders prefer more formal arrangements." Yeola glances at Madred. "If Dukat will not agree to this, perhaps someone else will."

"It must be Dukat," Evek tells her. "Only he has the credibility to win the support of the military. Dukat, you must be familiar with _Meditations on a Crimson Shadow._ "

"Preloc's work? Yes, of course I am," Dukat snaps, pacing angrily.

"Do you remember the soliloquy by Anjoten the Pure, when he is forced to sacrifice himself and his entire family to awaken the Legion of the Void?"

Dukat stops pacing and says softly, "'O, hear me, Ancient Ones/I stand before you, bound by duty/My destiny branded upon my heart/Take ye these, the best of Cardassia/May this sacrifice of angels purify our people/And grant us a victory which will endure until the end of time.'"

"This is not about you, Dukat. It was never about you. It is about your duty to your people. Your duty to become a symbol for them, even if it's a symbol of something you despise. Your people need you to do this. You know this is the only way."

Dukat's comm unit beeps. He touches it. "What is it?"

"Gul Dukat, sir," comes Damar's voice. "We're getting a reading on the long-range sensors. It could be cloaked Maquis ships."

"Beam us aboard and prepare to intercept." He closes the comm and faces Evek. "I will never betray my people to the Dominion. Better we die free than live as their subjects." To Yeola, "You. Come with me."

She nods. "I will do as you say, Gul Dukat."

As they dematerialize, Yeola stares into Evek's eyes for a long moment.

* * *

"We're approaching the location of the ships, sir," Zeni announces.

"Match their speed and heading, and maintain cloak," Dukat orders. "Yeola, how many ships are you reading?"

"It appears to be ten _Condor_ -class ships, sir, plus two ships which appear to be modified transports."

"Those will be full of ordnance to breach the colony's shields." Dukat steeples his fingers. "We can't fight a fleet that size. But if we disable those transports, we may be able to hold out against the rest of the fleet long enough to call in reinforcements."

"We'll only have a few seconds to hit the freighters before the ships decloak and attack us," Damar advises him.

"Well then, we'll just have to do this in a few seconds. Target the transports' warp cores and prepare to drop cloak on my mark."

"Targets acquired."

"Mark."

The _Naprem_ shimmers into being and fires a volley of torpedoes, then another. They explode silently, and two bulky ships appear. One of them lists out of warp, while the other detonates in a massive fireball which strikes the _Naprem_. Sparks fall from the ceiling and a klaxon begins to sound.

Over the intercom, Yax'et says, "That hit overloaded our EPS relays, sir. Warp drive is offline."

Zeni reports, "Sir, the other ships are decloaking and coming about."

"Do we still have cloak?"

"Yes, sir," Damar tells him.

"Cloak and get us out of here, maximum impulse. Yax'et, I need the warp core online. Now."

The Maquis ships begin firing charges around them. One explodes near the _Naprem_ and rocks the ship.

"Evasive manoeuvres!" Dukat calls, and Zeni banks the ship away from an incoming charge. The Maquis continue to fire, but the explosions become more distant.

"The enemy ships are recloaking and resuming their original course," Yeola tells him.

"Wait until they're out of range, then decloak and send a message to Gul Evek. Tell him they're coming." He hits his comm unit. "Yax'et, the warp drive!"

"I'll have it online in twenty minutes, sir!" the Kressari replies.

"If it's not online in ten minutes, you are a dead man."

"I'm as much bound by the laws of physics as you are, sir," Yax'et says testily as smoke pours from the damaged engine.

They wait in tense silence for what seems to be an eternity as Dukat paces angrily. Finally, Yax'et announces, "Sir, I can get you Warp 6. If we go above that, I guarantee you that the only thing that will reach Bryma will be our atoms."

"Warp 6, Gil Zeni."

The _Naprem_ returns to warp. Yeola examines her console. "Sir, our two patrol ships and the _Vetar_ have engaged the Maquis."

"Drop cloak and divert all power to engines." Dukat slams the arm of his chair. "Yax'et, take us to Warp 7."

"Sir, I would very strongly advise against that," Yax'et retorts.

"DO IT!" Dukat bellows.

"Taking us to Warp 7."

The ship shakes violently and the lights flicker. Yeola falls to the ground, then stands, pulling the strap of her dress back over her shoulder and brushing the hair from her eyes. "One of our patrol ships has been destroyed, and it looks like two of the Maquis ships have been disabled. The _Vetar_ is taking heavy damage. Two of the Maquis ships have gone after the colony."

"How long until we're in range?"

"Thirty seconds," Zeni shouts over the noise.

"The warp core is about to overload!" Yax'et calls over the intercom.

"Just a few more seconds," Dukat says for gritted teeth.

"Entering range!"

"Slow to impulse and power weapons!"

The _Naprem_ streaks out of warp towards the small ships swarming around the warship, peppering it with blue phaser blasts. A disruptor bolt from the aft of the _Vetar_ strikes one of the ships, and it explodes.

"The _Vetar_ is hailing us!" Yeola reports.

"On screen!"

A grainy image of Evek flickers into being, his voice intermittently obscured by static. "…defend the colony… contacted the Detapa Council, but they said they can't divert any ships… reached my contact from the Federation, but he can't reach us until…"

There is a flash on the screen, and a green blast erupts from the bridge of the _Vetar_. As they watch, explosions ripple through the cruiser, and it breaks apart.

"EVEK!" Dukat cries.

"The Maquis ships are moving to engage us," Damar says.

"Fire on the lead ship, then bring us about. Keep them away from the colony." Dukat leans forward in his chair.

The _Naprem_ strafes one of the ships and it is wracked by explosions. The other ships open fire en masse, battering the _Naprem_ with phaser fire.

"Sir, our other patrol ship is losing life support," reports Damar.

"Gil Zeni, can you keep those ships off us long enough to beam the survivors aboard?"

"I think so, sir. I'll do a Crazy Thalek!"

"What is a Crazy Thalek?" Dukat barks.

"It's when you –"

"Never mind, just do it! Damar, drop shields and beam the survivors aboard! Now!"

The thruster on the _Naprem_ 's starboard wing cuts out and the ship spins in an arc, then returns to full impulse, speeding directly below the Maquis ships. They cut their engines, spin, and re-engage to follow the _Naprem_.

"I have them, sir!" Damar calls. "Bringing shields back online"

"Bring us to bearing 141 mark 3, and fire at the nearest ship!"

The _Naprem_ veers upwards and fires disruptors on a Maquis ship. Its lights flicker, then go out, and it drifts in space. The three remaining Maquis ships unleash a volley of torpedoes which strike along the aft section of the _Naprem_.

The ship groans under the impact. Damar shouts, "That last hit took out our disruptor targeting system! Shields are offline!"

"The Maquis are breaking off and going for the colony!" Zeni says.

"Why aren't they finishing the job?" Dukat snarls.

"It's because there's a _Sovereign-_ class Federation cruiser en route," Yeola announces. "They want to breach the colony's shield before it gets here. And they know we've been neutralized." She looks down. "Sir, a Maquis ship is hailing us. One of the ones attacking the colony."

"On screen."

The Vedek sits in the command chair, clad in an orange jumpsuit. Her face is still swollen, her hair matted. She stares at him with disgust. "Dukat."

"Laren. I see your men freed you from our custody. A shame – I was hoping we'd get to chat again."

"Get ready to witness the righteous judgment of the Prophets, Dukat. The divine vengeance of the gods of Bajor."

"In case you hadn't noticed, the Federation will be here momentarily. Go back to the Badlands before you get hurt."

She stares at him, her eyes wide. "I don't think so. We'll have this shield down long before they get here. Do you know what will happen when we fly one of our ships into your city at warp speed?"

Dukat stands. "You would kill millions of innocent Cardassians?"

"No Cardassian is innocent. And don't pretend for a second that you wouldn't do the exact same thing to us." She ends the transmission.

"She's right, sir," Damar says. "They'll have that shield down in three minutes. The Federation will be here in twenty."

"How many torpedoes do we have left?"

Yeola turns to him. "Dukat, we don't stand a chance against them without shields. We'll be destroyed in seconds. There is nothing we can do for them – we should escape while we still can."

He gazes at the viewscreen as the distant ships fire blue flashes towards the yellow planet. Shaking his head, he says, "We have to try. Zeni, lay in a course…"

"The Federation ship is hailing us, sir," Yeola announces.

He takes a deep breath. "On screen."

A human appears on the viewscreen. "This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the _USS Enterprise_."

"Captain," Dukat begins, "those terrorists are going to…"

"Yes, we know what she said. Listen to me very carefully: you must surrender the planet to them. Immediately."

"Surrender the planet…?"

"It is the only way to save the colonists." The small human stands, tugging his uniform. "The Federation Directive on Non-Combatants will apply; we can send ships to evacuate them."

"To where? They have nowhere to go."

"No matter where they go, they will be alive. But for that to happen, you must act quickly, Gul Dukat."

"How do you know the Vedek won't destroy the colony anyway?" Dukat snaps.

In a measured voice, Picard says, "I have had… dealings with Ro Laren before. I can convince her to spare the colonists."

Dukat and Picard stare at each other for a long moment. Then Dukat says, "Very well, Picard."

"Good. I will contact Starfleet to prepare the evacuation. I think you should keep our channel open when you talk to the Vedek. She will listen to me." He looks pained.

Dukat scowls. To Yeola, "Hail the Vedek's ship."

"Channel open."

He glares at the Bajoran. Through clenched teeth, "Ro Laren of the Maquis, on behalf of the people of the Bryma colony, I offer our surrender. State your terms."

"There will be no surrender," the Vedek says. "The Cardassians will know the wrath of the Prophets."

On Picard's bridge, a crewman stands up from his post and peers at the viewscreen with emotionless yellow eyes. "Captain Ro, you are forgetting stanza four nineteen of the _Scroll of Bala Ven_. 'When you have overrun your enemies by the grace of the Prophets, do not put them to the sword, but grant them mercy, for he who shows compassion to his enemies is most favoured in the eyes of the Prophets.'"

"Don't presume to quote the Scrolls to me, android."

"Consider also Horran's First Prophecy: 'The Chosen One shall stand before his enemies like a righteous king, and they shall bow before him. And he shall spare them, for the fire of the Prophets' mercy burns in his heart.' And section one thousand eighty six of the _Code of Dal'shaesh_ : 'The denizens of a conquered city must be given the chance to swear allegiance to the conquerors. If they will not swear fealty, they may be expelled, but they must not be killed nor maimed.' Furthermore, the Second Treatise on –"

Picard holds up his hand. "As you can see, the law of the Prophets is clear on what you must do." He steps toward the screen. "And I know you, Laren. You would not commit a massacre."

"I'm not the person you think you know, Picard. I've been reborn." She glowers at him. "But I will accept the Cardassians' surrender. They will have seven days to evacuate. Then the planet is ours."

"You're doing the right thing, Laren," says a dark-eyed woman seated next to Picard.

"One more thing," the Vedek says, looking up. "Him. The war criminal Gul Dukat. He will personally surrender to face the justice of the Prophets."

Dukat's crew turns to him. After a moment of silence, he says, "Very well. I'll transport to your ship."

"Then I accept your surrender, Gul Dukat, on behalf of the Maquis Confederacy. The Prophets be praised." She ends the transmission. Gul Dukat follows suit.

"Sir, you can't go over there," Damar protests.

"I don't intend to, Damar. Do we still have the cloaking device?"

"Yes, sir."

"Prepare to engage."

Zeni asks, "What about the colonists?"

"It's too late for them to get through the shield before the _Enterprise_ arrives." Dukat sits down. "But it doesn't matter; the Vedek has what she wants. She won't scuttle the deal just because of me."

"If the Federation had any decency, they'd scuttle the deal themselves by destroying those terrorists," Damar says.

"They'd be back," replies Dukat, fingers steepled. "And it's clear that we can't rely on the Federation to protect us." He taps his comm. "Dr. Ghoren, are the survivors from the patrol ship aboard?"

"Yes, sir. Gul Madred is among them."

Dukat patches his comm throughout the ship. "This is Gul Dukat. It's time for us to leave this system. But make no mistake: we will be back. This I vow to each one of you. We embark on a new mission, one that will reshape the quadrant. We will not rest until Cardassia is made whole, until the very mention of our people brings terror to the hearts of our enemies. We will bring about a new age for Cardassia, by the power of our will."

He ends the transmission. "Damar, engage cloak. Zeni, get us out of here, maximum warp."

The _Naprem_ shimmers into nothingness.

TO BE CONCLUDED…


	2. Part 2

**Meditations on a Crimson Shadow**

 **Part 2**

The lift doors open and Ro steps onto the darkened, smoky Klingon bridge. The crew is watching intently as their commander, seated in an angular steel throne, glowers at a warrior standing in front of him. A targ growls menacingly.

"You mean to tell me," the commander says slowly, "that Gul Dukat was within your grasp, and you let him escape?"

"You must understand, Lord Korag!" the warrior protests. "We followed them into an ion storm which interfered with our sensors! We thought we had them, but they had somehow configured one of their escape pods to send out false readings. By the time we realized it wasn't them –"

"You were close enough to the pod that the antimatter explosives they placed aboard it disabled your ship."

"Yes, Lord Korag. But now our ship is repaired! Upon my honour, I swear it will not happen again."

Korag stands, towering over the warrior. He seizes him by the shoulder, draws his _d'k tagh_ , and drives it into the warrior's chest below his heart. Slowly, he draws it upwards as the warrior howls, spewing pink blood from his chest. Then Korag plunges his hand into the incision, pulls out the warrior's heart, and bites into it with his metal jaw. The warrior falls silent and crumples to the ground. Ro watches without reacting.

Korag spits pink blood on the warrior's corpse. "You are correct. It will not happen again."

He turns to Ro, wiping blood from his prosthetic jaw. "You are the one they call the Vedek?"

"I am." She regards the corpse with disinterest.

"And you know who I am?"

"You are Korag, son of N'Koth. High Council member, head of one of the most influential houses in the Klingon Empire. After your brother was murdered by Gul Dukat, you swore a blood oath against him. Which, I assume, is why I'm here."

Korag walks towards her and thrusts the half-eaten heart towards her. "Eat. It will give you power."

She stares upwards to meet his gaze, hands behind her back. "The Law of the Prophets forbids me to eat the flesh of any sentient being."

Korag laughs, throwing the heart to his targ, which devours it eagerly. "Your faith in your 'prophets' is as strong as I have heard. Very well then. Yes, I have brought you here about Gul Dukat. I hear that you have come closer than any to capturing him. That you, too, have a blood feud with him."

"As former prefect during the Occupation, he's responsible for the deaths of countless Bajorans. Their _paghs_ cry for justice. I seek to try him according to my people's ancient rituals."

The massive Klingon leans forward. "I hope that the punishment is death."

Her lips turn in a slight smile. "He will be burned at the stake."

Korag roars in laughter. "Good! Good. A fitting end a dishonourable _p'tach_ such as he. I ask only that you save his heart for me."

"I'm pleased to hear that, Lord Korag. I was concerned that it would be a race between us to see who would get to Dukat first."

"It is true that I would like nothing more than to tear that Cardassian's head from his scaly neck with my own hands. But the High Council, in their wisdom, have seen that our goals are in alignment on this matter." He lowers his voice. "I suspect that many Bajorans would consider you a hero if you were the one to bring Dukat to justice."

She nods. "He is perhaps the most hated of all living Cardassians among my people."

"And yet the Bajoran government has not demanded his head."

She scowls. "The Bajoran government are apostates, duped by the false Emissary and his pet, the fraud Kai Winn. They have abandoned the Law of the Prophets. Their peace treaty with the Cardassians is a perversion of justice."

Korag turns and taps a nearby console, and an astropolitical map appears on the ship's viewscreen. "Since your victory at Bryma, the Cardassian presence along the Demilitarized Zone has been on the verge of collapse. As such, Chancellor Gowron has seen fit to turn the might of the Klingon Empire against the treacherous Federation." He stares at her unblinkingly. "The final victory of the Maquis is at hand. But you and your cell are not like the other Maquis. You will not be content to live out your lives as simple farmers. The hearts of warriors beat within you!"

She cocks her head. "You want me and my cell to return to Bajor. To overthrow the government."

"You will have the backing of the Klingon Empire. All we want in return is control over Deep Space Nine."

Ro narrows her eyes. "I agree that the rule of the Prophets must be restored on Bajor. But my loyalty lies with the Maquis. Once we've defeated the Cardassians, and Gul Dukat has faced judgment for his crimes, we'll turn our attention to Bajor, and drive the Federation from its skies once and for all."

"Good. Together, we will hunt Dukat down." Korag bares his fangs. "But there is one final matter. For the sake of my family's honour, you must formally swear yourself to our blood oath against Dukat."

He draws his _d'k tagh_ , and Ro holds out her hand, repeating the Klingon oath and staring forward, unflinching, as the Klingon draws his blade across her palm.

* * *

In a remote sector of Cardassian space, there is a nebula. Vast clouds of pale blue gases stand still in the emptiness of space, illuminated by beams from a massive white star.

Within the nebula, there is a lone Cardassian _Nor-_ class station. Its location is not recorded on any charts, and there has not been any traffic to the station for over a year. It is run by a skeleton crew, the last remnants of a defunct order.

Today, for the first time in months, a shadow is cast over the station – the shadow of an immense Klingon warship. From the ship, dozens of green lights shoot silently at the station, striking its weapons emplacements and shield batteries. Belatedly, the station begins to return fire. One by one, its weapons batteries are pulverized by disruptor fire.

Near one of the airlocks on the station's docking ring, in empty space, a hatch seems to open, and three figures in space suits emerge from a tunnel that appears to lead nowhere. Space ripples around them as the figures launch themselves towards one of the station's airlocks. One of the figures places a small device next to the airlock. It opens, and they climb inside.

The airlock seals behind them, and after the chamber fills with air, a large, gear-shaped door rolls to one side, revealing a dimly-lit corridor. The figures remove their helmets.

"We don't have much time," Dukat says to Damar and Yeola. "The crew may be hardened Obsidian Order veterans, but even they can't hold out long against an army of Klingons. That's the _Negh'Var_ itself out there – the flagship of the Klingon fleet. If you don't want them to get their hands on Dominion technology, Yeola, I suggest you proceed with this plan of yours."

Yeola is setting up a small rod which is glowing blue. "What is that?" Damar asks suspiciously.

"It's a transponder signal for a subspace transporter," she says, adjusting the device. "I'm going to bring in reinforcements."

"From where?"

"Nowhere that concerns you." She activates the transponder. "Stand back."

There is a shimmer, and six beams coalesce into hulking humanoid forms. They are clad in black body armour and standing alert, disruptor rifles in hand. Emotionless eyes stare from grey, craggy faces.

"The Jem'Hadar," Dukat marvels.

The largest of the Jem'Hadar steps forward, leaning his rifle over his shoulder and carrying an ax-like blade in his other hand. "I am First Ixtana'Rax. My men are here to serve for the glory of the Founders."

Yeola steps towards him. "Fragments of a destroyed Dominion attack ship are being held in this research facility. The Klingons have come to take the station. You will protect us as we recover our technology. Gul Dukat knows the layout of this station; you will follow his orders."

Ixtana'Rax glances momentarily at Dukat. "This Cardassian will be in command?"

Yeola glares up at him. "Are you questioning me?"

"No. Obedience brings victory."

"And victory is life," she says.

Dukat steps forward. "Now that that's settled, we need to search the cargo bays – they're the only spaces large enough to hold what they've salvaged from the ship. The station has a dampening field which prevents us from using our tricorders, so we won't know if there are Klingons ahead."

"We do not need sensors," Ixtana'Rax says. "The Klingons will never know who killed them."

"Good. Let's go."

The Jem'Hadar vanish, and their footsteps travel softly down the corridor. Dukat, Yeola, and Damar follow close behind, disruptors drawn.

They turn a corner and a group of five Klingons turns to face them. Their leader grins malevolently and draws his disruptor. Then a massive gash erupts from his throat, and he falls to his knees, gasping for breath. The other Klingons exchange stunned looks before receiving fatal stab wounds from invisible blades.

Dukat grins. "I'm impressed, Yeola. They do good work."

"They are the Founders' most deadly creation. The end of evolution."

They advance through the corridors, passing more Klingon corpses as they go. Eventually, Dukat says, "Here!"

A dead Klingon is propped face-first against the bulkhead next to a door. Dukat pushes the body to the floor, revealing a pink-stained control panel. He inputs a command override, and the door rolls aside, revealing a large cargo bay. The room is filled with metal crates. Beyond a pile of crates, a massive, cylindrical object is surrounded by scaffolding.

"That's the power array for a polaron emitter," Yeola tells him. "It's the main weapons emplacement on a Dominion attack ship."

There is an explosion on the ceiling just above Dukat's head. They dive behind a row of crates as a group of Klingons appear in the doorway, firing into the bay.

Dukat and Damar crouch behind the crates, disruptors drawn. Then Damar is shoved to the ground by an invisible force. A Jem'Hadar appears in his place, with two others next to him. They open fire on the Klingons, who take cover outside the doorway.

"What do you think you're doing?" Damar spits, crawling to his feet. The Jem'Hadar ignores him, and Dukat puts a hand on Damar's shoulder. "There's no time. You and Yeola need to activate the pattern enhancers so we can beam the array out of here."

"Yes, sir," Damar says in a low voice as he pulls the enhancer unit from the pack on his environmental suit. He and Yeola activate the units as Dukat and the Jem'Hadar exchange fire with the Klingons. A Klingon disruptor blast hits one of the crates and it explodes, killing one of the Jem'Hadar.

Ixtana'Rax materializes in the doorway in the centre of the group of Klingons. He fires his disruptor rifle point-blank at two of them in rapid succession while impaling a third behind him with his blade without looking. The final Klingon bares his fangs, drops his gun, and draws his _bat'leth_. Ixtana'Rax, expressionless, holsters his rifle and holds his blood-stained blade in front of him in a ready stance.

For a moment, the two circle each other warily. Then the Klingon lunges forward, and Ixtana'Rax knocks his blade aside. The Klingon strikes again and catches the Jem'Hadar blade with the edge of his _bat'leth_. The two struggle for a moment, then the Klingon flings Ixtana'Rax's weapon to the side. Without wasting a single movement, the Jem'Hadar strikes the Klingon hard in the chest with his fist. There is the crunch of snapping bone. Bellowing, the Klingon trusts his _bat'leth_ forward, embedding it in the Jem'Hadar's abdomen.

Ixtana'Rax glances down at the Klingon sword disdainfully. He seizes it, pulling it from his flesh as the Klingon, clutching his chest, watches. He reaches for his disruptor as Ixtana'Rax brings the _bat'leth_ up with lightning speed, severing the left half of the Klingon's head. He drops to the ground.

"Pattern enhancers online!" Yeola reports.

Hearing no Klingon disruptor fire, Dukat stands. "Excellent work." He turns to Ixtana'Rax, who is flanked by two of his soldiers. "You're wounded."

The Jem'Hadar stands straight. "It is not serious. I can fight."

"Good. We need to find the rest of the salvage. Leave three of your men here to hold this cargo bay and come with me."

"The Klingons will not take this position." Ixtana'Rax signals to three of his soldiers to remain. Then he and the remaining soldier run into the corridor, disappearing. Dukat nods to Damar and Yeola and they follow the invisible Jem'Hadar.

There is the sound of disruptor fire down the corridor and they draw their weapons. Seconds later, a Cardassian woman comes round the corner, and dives to avoid a disruptor bolt. She points her weapon at Dukat, then lowers it. "Gul Dukat?" she asks. Then she turns to Yeola, a look of confusion on her face.

"We're here to secure the Dominion weapons," Dukat tells her. "Where is the rest of your crew?"

"They're dead. But we've overloaded the main reactor. This station will explode in twenty minutes."

Two Klingons round the corner. Blood suddenly spurts from the chest of the first, while an unseen force seizes the head of the second and twists it at an unnatural angle. The Cardassian officer gapes.

"We've secured the polaron array. Where are you keeping the rest of the salvage?" Yeola asks.

"Why are you working with a Vorta?" the officer asks Dukat.

"There's no time to explain. Tell us where the technology is being kept."

After a moment, she beckons, "This way."

They reach a door to the second cargo bay and the officer disengages the lock. As the door rolls open, she is struck in the back by a burst of green energy. Dukat whirls and returns fire, felling a Klingon. With a roar, four more Klingons come around the corner, firing at them. Dukat and Damar sprint into the cargo bay, followed by Yeola, who lays suppressive fire behind them with her two pistols.

This cargo bay holds charred debris from several kinds of ships. There is a Romulan cloaking device in one corner, and the wing of what appears to Dukat to be a Breen starfighter. In the back of the room is a large, twisted chunk of a ship of unfamiliar origin, perhaps two decks tall. Next to it is a vaguely dome-shaped apparatus bearing the distinctive design of the Dominion.

"There. That's a Dominion shield generator. We need to get it out of here," Yeola tells them. Behind them, Ixtana'Rax and his soldier appear, firing into the doorway to keep the Klingons at bay. The Klingons take up positions on either side of the door, firing inward. A group of five more Klingons arrive to join them.

Dukat says to Yeola, "Stay low and get those pattern enhancers set up. When they're ready, signal Zeni to beam us all out of here and go to warp. We'll draw the Klingons away from you."

She nods, then crouches and rushes to the shield generator. Under the protective disruptor fire of their fellow warriors, a group of six Klingons storms the cargo bay. Dukat, Damar, and the two Jem'Hadar fire at them, backing towards the hulking wreckage as they fell two of the Klingons. The remaining warriors continue to advance towards them, and Dukat signals them to retreat through a breach in the wreckage.

It is dark inside. The Cardassians and Jem'Hadar keep their weapons trained on the breach, waiting for a Klingon to appear in the dim light. The wreckage shudders under the impact of disruptor fire. Suddenly, there is a whirring sound, and the inside of the wreck is bathed in a pale green light. Dukat and Damar glance at each other uneasily.

There is a shout from one of the Jem'Hadar, and Dukat turns to see a robotic hand clutching the soldier's shoulder, and a second metal claw appears next to the soldier's throat. A pair of thin tubules shoot into the Jem'Hadar's neck.

"Ungh," the soldier groans, dropping to his knees as his scales pulsate around where the tubules entered. Behind him is a pale cyborg, which shines a red laser at them from its eyepiece. Ixtana'Rax draws his blade and severs the cyborg's head. It falls over backwards.

Dukat says urgently, "We need to get out of here. Now."

The Jem'Hadar soldier reaches towards Ixtana'Rax, who draws his rifle and shoots the soldier in the head. Then he disappears, and Dukat and Damar are shoved aside as he sprints out the exit towards the Klingons. Dukat and Damar follow, firing through the breach. They dive, narrowly dodging the Klingons' disruptor bursts. Ixtana'Rax appears behind the group of Klingons, impaling one of them before taking a disruptor bolt to the shoulder. He staggers, then disappears again. Dukat and Damar fire at the Klingons, drawing their attention.

Three more warriors fire at them from elsewhere in the cargo bay, and the two Cardassians crouch behind a piece of gnarled hull plating.

"I don't know about you, sir," Damar shouts over the disruptor fire, "but I prefer to go this way over assimilation by the Borg."

"Better to die handsome than to live as slaves!" Dukat declares, firing blindly around their cover. "I tell you, Damar, when they bring our bodies back to Cardassia, and have a funeral procession for us in the capital city, people will say, 'Here lie two of the most brave, beautiful sons of Cardassia who ever lived.'"

"The women will think of us when they fuck their husbands that night," Damar shouts back, grinning.

There is a clank, and a small globe with a blinking red light on it rolls in front of them. Dukat seizes Damar's shoulder. "Damar…"

Then their surroundings dissolve, and they are in the transporter room on the _Naprem_ , with Yeola next to them. At the console, Yax'et says, "I've got them! And the cargo is secure."

"Engaging maximum warp!" Zeni's voice says over the intercom. The _Naprem_ shudders as the _Negh'Var_ pounds it with disruptor fire, but shoots to warp speed and then is re-concealed under cloak. There is a bright flash on the underside of the station's ops module, then the station is torn apart by an enormous, silent explosion as the Klingon battleship flies away.

* * *

"I've seen a lot of very creative weapons in my time," Yax'et says to Dukat as they examine a schematic in the _Naprem's_ smoky engineering bay, "but I've never seen anything quite like this. A phased polaron beam is going to cut right through any shielding I've ever heard of. Plus, it's going to give you at least three times the yield of a conventional disruptor. You Dominion guys," he says to Yeola. "I've got to hand it to you."

"Is it compatible with our systems?" Dukat asks.

"In theory," the Kressari answers. "But the way it works, is it's got to keep an active polaron field at all times. There's no way our cloaking device is going to hide that. So, assuming I figure out how to get it installed, I'd need to do a cold start of it as soon as we dropped cloak, and that's going to take at least twenty minutes, maybe more."

"It may be useful nonetheless. Integrate it with our systems but keep it powered down. What about the shield generator?"

"Like I said, the Dominion do nice work. I can use the technology to increase our shield output by 50%."

Dukat grins. "Very good, very good. Get to it."

"Aye, sir."

He and Yeola turn from the schematic and walk slowly around the engineering bay, hands clasped behind their backs. The Vorta says, "I was able to interface with the communications relay without being detected."

"Yes, I saw that. I trust there was word from Gul Madred?"

"He's made contact with a number of high-ranking officers who he thinks would be amenable to our plan. They're prepared to meet with us on Cardassia at our earliest convenience."

"We're not going to Cardassia just yet," Dukat says, staring forward. "We need to go to Deep Space 9 first."

"What?" the Vorta asks angrily, glaring at him.

"My daughter Ziyal needs my help. Her life has been threatened by Bajoran extremists, possibly connected to the Vedek. Her safety is my priority."

Yeola is speechless for a moment. Then, in a low voice, "These are high-ranking officers who are agreeing to meet us at considerable personal risk –"

Dukat holds up his hand. "My decision is made."

"– to discuss an alliance which is, quite frankly, crucial for the survival of your people!" she hisses.

Dukat glares back at her. "The guls," he growls, "can wait."

Yeola stares at him incredulously. "Deep Space 9 is Federation territory! If they detect me, they're going to start questioning why there's a representative of the Dominion on your ship. They're going to figure out what's going on!"

"The cargo bay is shielded. They won't detect our new equipment in it. Or you. Especially when we put you in a sleeper pod." He puts his hand on his disruptor.

She narrows her eyes. "You're stalling. After Bryma, you said you were committed to the plan, but now you're having second thoughts. I can understand that you're concerned about your daughter –"

"No you can't!" Dukat shouts, slamming his hand against the bulkhead behind her head and pinning her between himself and the bulkhead. Through gritted teeth centimeters from her face, he says, "A Cardassian's duty is to his family above all else. Your people can never understand that, but you'd better get used to it or else there can be no alliance between our peoples."

She stares at him. "I've often wondered what it is about family relationships that cause species like you to act so completely irrationally. Perhaps it's something I can never know."

Dukat steps back. "Tell Madred to stand by; we'll signal him when we're ready to meet. Then meet Dr. Ghoren in the cargo bay. He'll have your pod ready."

"As you wish." She turns to leave. "But I want to impress on you the importance of this meeting. Time is of the essence. The longer we wait, the more of your people are going to die."

"I wouldn't worry. I expect we will just pick Ziyal up and leave, now that she knows they can't protect her on Deep Space Nine."

* * *

Captain Benjamin Sisko sits in silence, gazing at Dukat across the desk and turning his baseball in one hand. Dukat stares back at him for a long moment.

"You lied to me, Captain."

"Not exactly," Sisko says, tossing the ball in the air and catching it. "It's true that Ziyal's life was threatened by religious extremists."

"You just neglected to mention that Major Kira discovered that they were wanted by the Bajoran government on terrorism charges, and apprehended them."

The human shrugs. "I suppose it slipped my mind."

"Why am I here, Benjamin?"

He tosses the ball again. "I need a favour."

Dukat watches the ball with disinterest. "I'm guessing I'm not going to like this favour."

"I highly doubt it."

"Captain, you and your crew have taken Ziyal in, and protected her and made her feel at home, and for that, you may believe me when I tell you I will be eternally grateful and will happily grant any favour you like." He stands. "But at the moment, I have some very pressing matters to attend to, so if you don't mind…"

"I need you to take me to Ty'Gokor so that I can expose Chancellor Gowron as a Founder."

Dukat freezes, then sits back down and leans close to Sisko. "Do you have any evidence of that?"

Sisko puts the ball down. "Odo returned to the Great Link a few months ago. While his consciousness was merged with the Founders, he became aware that they had replaced Gowron with one of their own."

"When?" Dukat asks, his jaw tight. "When did they replace him?"

"For all we know," Sisko says in a low voice, "a Founder may have started the war between the Klingons and your people."

Dukat stares intently out the porthole behind Sisko. "Very well, Captain, I'll help you." He looks at the human. "But you'll have restricted access aboard my ship, and you'll leave your tricorders with me. I don't want your people poking around and telling Starfleet where I've been."

"Done. And what I have told you is in the strictest confidence. Not even your crew can know why you're taking us to Ty'Gokor."

"Done." Dukat leans back. "I must say, Benjamin – the Federation sending a team of commandos to assassinate the Klingon chancellor? Jaresh-Inyo has grown some stones."

"We're there to expose the changeling," Sisko responds, his fingers steepled. "Not to assassinate it. Not," he pauses, "unless it's absolutely necessary."

"But you do realize this is a suicide mission."

"Well," says Sisko, picking up the ball again. "We'll just see about that."

* * *

A solitary candle burns in the dimly lit room.

It stands on a table draped in a red cloth, with dishes and cutlery set for two. Dukat walks to the table, holding a steaming bowl with an oven mitt. He sets it on the table, then straightens the cutlery.

The door to the guest quarters chimes. Dukat says, "Enter."

The door opens and Ziyal comes in. She smiles. "Father."

"Ziyal." Dukat embraces his daughter. "I'm so pleased you could make it."

"Oh, come on, Father. You know I wouldn't miss dinner with you!" She sniffs. "Especially when it smells so good!"

"It's sem'hal stew – a recipe my mother used to make. I do hope it's to your liking. Your father may be known for many things, but never before for his cooking prowess." He pulls a chair back. "Please, sit. Would you like some red leaf tea? Or some kanar, perhaps?"

Ziyal sits. "Tea is fine. Thank you, father."

He pours her some tea, and a glass of kanar for himself. Then he opens the bowl and spoons some stew onto her plate. "Yamok sauce?"

"Yes, please."

He sets out the sauce, then serves himself and sits. "I hear Major Kira has kept her promise to protect you."

She pours the sauce on her stew. "Yes. You needn't worry, Father. The men who threatened me are in prison on Bajor, and Constable Odo has assigned a deputy to be my personal bodyguard. I feel safer here than I've ever felt." She tastes the stew, then beams. "Delicious!"

"I'm so glad you like it. This is a recipe that's been in our family for generations. I hope someday you'll try your hand at it yourself."

"I'd be delighted! Send me the recipe and I'll make it for you next time you're here."

"I look forward to it," Dukat says. "Tell me, Ziyal, how is life on the station?"

"It's…" she looks down. "It's a bit lonely. Major Kira has been wonderful, but she's so busy. And the other Bajorans… Well, to be honest, it's just like being on Cardassia. They can't see past my skin, or…"

"Or the fact that you're my daughter."

She stirs the stew with her fork. "I try to explain that you were just doing your job during the Occupation, that you did everything you could to help our peoples live in peace. But no one wants to hear it."

"Bajorans are an obstinate people. But there were some who could see all that I tried to do for them. Your mother, for example." He sips his drink. "I see so much of her in you. Her strength, her clear-headedness."

"That's kind of you to say, Father."

"It's true!" He gazes at her. "Stay strong, Ziyal. The Bajorans will accept you in time. And perhaps, through you, they'll come to realize I'm not the man they think I am."

"I hope so."

Dukat is silent long moment. Then, "But enough about that. I want to show you something I recently acquired!" He stands and walks to the bedroom of his quarters, then re-emerges with a tattered, leather-bound book. He sits and hands it to her. "The _Third Apocalypse of Ysha_. It's an ancient Bajoran text which Quark was able to procure for me. It's very hard to come by, as it's actually illegal to buy and sell on Bajor because of their blasphemy laws."

"Blasphemy?" she asks.

"Yes. Ridiculous, I know. It prophesies the coming of a mythical hero named Koss'moran, who was exiled from Bajor to a realm of purifying fire, and then returns to Bajor, bringing the power of the fire to purify the world. Apparently it's considered by orthodox Bajoran theologians to be a metaphor for the Pah-wraiths."

Ziyal shivers. "Mother used to tell me stories about the Pah-wraiths. Evil beings which craved power to torment the living."

Dukat grins. "Well, of course it's all just superstitious nonsense. But I read an article from the Cardassian Institute of Archaeology which said that, in light of the new evidence about early contact between Bajor and Cardassia, this text might be a very crude adaptation of some of our myths from the Hebitian era – specifically, some of the apocalyptic myths that Preloc drew on for _Meditations on a Crimson Shadow_."

Ziyal smiles. "That's so interesting! I've always felt that our two cultures had far more in common than anyone realized. I think if people would spend more time looking at our art and literature, they'd see that. But I never thought I'd see you taking an interest in Bajoran mythology."

"Strange, isn't it? But I find that apocalyptic literature really speaks to me these days." Dukat stares at the candle's flame. "Things are happening right now, Ziyal. Seismic changes. This is an unprecedented time in our people's history, Ziyal. And I find myself at the centre of it."

She nods. "I could tell something was bothering you as soon as I saw you. You seem… exhausted. Like you've been carrying the weight of Cardassia on your shoulders."

"You don't know how true that is," he agrees.

"Well, you can always talk to me, Father. You can tell me anything."

He takes another bite. "I appreciate that, Ziyal. It's not for you to know just yet."

She puts her hand on his. "Whatever it is, I know you'll do the right thing. You always do."

Dukat swallows hard and is silent for a long moment. The candle burns low.

* * *

"Gil Zeni!"

She turns from the mess hall replicator, holding her meal. "Dr. Ghoren."

"Mind if I join you?"

"Of course."

She takes a seat at the long Klingon table, and in a moment the doctor sits next to her. He glances around the room, then says in a low voice, "I want to talk to you about what's going on right now. I heard we're going on some mission for Starfleet before we go to Cardassia? And there are Federation officers on the ship right now, disguised as Klingons?"

She whispers, "I don't know! They came to the bridge, and Gul Dukat relieved me of duty. He said we were going on an important mission, and he would take it from here. And yes, there are four Klingons with them who are apparently disguised Starfleet officers! And I have no idea where Yeola went."

"Gul Dukat had me put her in stasis." He leans closer. "I think he's having second thoughts about allying with the Dominion."

"Well, something is clearly on his mind. But he's definitely not interested in talking to me about it. Or, for that matter, about anything lately."

Ghoren hesitates for a moment. "Can I tell you something, completely confidentially?"

"Of course, Doctor."

"I'm glad we're not going to Cardassia. I think an alliance with the Dominion is a very bad idea. Yes, things are bad right now, but Cardassia's been through worse. We always manage to survive."

She whispers, "Yes. I'm glad you feel that way because I do too. We are an independent people. We can't be part of the Dominion – have you seen what they've done to the Vorta? They genetically engineered them to be these neutered automatons who believe the Founders are gods! Who says they won't do that to us?"

"I've known Gul Dukat for a long time – I've been serving under him since he was prefect of Bajor. And I told him right from the start that I thought it was a bad idea. But I don't know – I think it was something about surrendering to that Bajoran that really got to him. I hope he's coming around. But if not…" he pauses. "Do you agree with me that if Gul Dukat wants to go ahead with the Dominion alliance, that it may be our patriotic duty to try to stop it from happening?"

She narrows her eyes. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

Softly, Ghoren says, "Yax'et is with me. Cardassia is his people's greatest benefactor, and if Cardassia becomes part of the Dominion, they don't stand a chance. He says with your help on the bridge, he can take control of the ship from Engineering. Then I can flood the bridge with anesthezine gas. No one will be hurt. But we'll get rid of the Vorta and put an end to this before it starts."

"I… I don't know. I still think we can reason with Dukat. I think he's starting to come around."

The door opens and Damar storms in, pounds his fist against the table, and shouts, "That goddamned Vorta bitch. The holofilter! She sabotaged the fucking holofilter!"

"What are you talking about?" Ghoren asks.

"She knew we were meeting with the Federation, and she intentionally set us up to be killed by the Klingons!"

"Listen, Damar, I wanted to talk to you about that…"

"She knew! She knew we were on to her bullshit!"

"What bullshit?" Zeni asks.

"Gul Dukat told me something." Damar takes a deep breath. "But I can't tell you about it. But I can tell you one thing – I hope he pushes her out an airlock."

"What did he tell you?" Ghoren asks. "Is the alliance with the Dominion not going ahead?"

"Did you hear me?" Damar snaps. "I said I can't talk about it!"

They sit in silence for a moment. From outside the room, loud voices approach. The door opens and become audible.

"No one will believe you are true Klingon warriors if you do not eat gagh!"

"I am Miles, son of Michael! No man tells me what I must eat! Argh!"

The officers pause, seeing the Cardassians at the mess table. One of the Starfleet personnel steps forward. "May we join you?"

Ghoren nods, while Damar stands to use the replicator before the officers can use it. They sit across from Zeni and Ghoren.

The one who spoke says, "I am Captain Benjamin Sisko. This is Chief O'Brien, Commander Worf, and Constable Odo."

Ghoren nods to Odo. "It's good to see you again, old friend."

"And you, doctor."

"Your doctor did good work. I can't tell which of you is the real Klingon."

Zeni peers at O'Brien. "I know this one for sure. From the trial."

O'Brien winces. "There's something I'd rather forget."

"Don't be fooled by the fact that he's on our ship, Gil Zeni." Damar sits next to her. "This man is a killer of Cardassians. As far as I'm concerned, he's no different from the terrorists."

O'Brien glares at him. Sisko says, "Glinn Damar, I would appreciate if you didn't cast aspersions on my officers."

"It's just too convenient," Damar says. "For months, Starfleet sits by as the Klingons rampage unchecked through our territory. Handing us replicators from time to time because they pity us. But as soon as the Klingons decide to come after the Federation, all of a sudden, here comes Starfleet with a plan to end the war. After letting their enemies fight it out among themselves."

Worf slams his palm on the table. "Starfleet officers have fought and died to protect your people! We abandoned the Khitomer Accords for you! And now you dishonour the name of the Federation?"

"Should I be grateful to you, Klingon?" Damar stands. "Should I believe you turned your back on your people because you care about Cardassian lives? I bet you're here on a personal vendetta against Gowron for stripping you of your family's honour. Maybe you'll kill him and become chancellor yourself. I know what you Klingons are like – you're a bunch of fucking animals."

Worf draws his _d'k tagh,_ and Zeni and Ghoren draw their disruptors.

"Mr. Worf!" shouts Sisko. The Klingon lowers his dagger.

Sisko stands and tugs on his armour. "If we're going to act like Klingons," he says to his officers in a low voice, keeping his eyes focused on the Cardassians, "why don't we do it somewhere else."

The officers leave. Damar looks at Ghoren and Zeni for a moment, then storms out of the room without placing his meal in the matter reclaimer.

Zeni turns to Ghoren. "I can't betray Gul Dukat, doctor. Don't ask me to do it. He's a hero of our people."

"Keva, please…"

"I know we can reason with him. He's going to make the right decision. Goodbye, doctor."

* * *

Yeola opens her eyes. She is lying on her back in a sleeper pod. Through the transparent panel in front of her face, she sees the darkened cargo bay, illuminated only by light streaming from a window overlooking the bay. She pushes against the lid of the pod, but it does not budge.

"Yeola," comes Dukat's voice over the intercom. "I'm pleased to see that you're awake. I wanted to have a chat with you about a very interesting rumour I heard."

"Open the pod, and we can talk." Yeola says.

"Very well," Dukat says. One of the pod's air valves opens, and there is a deafening roar as the air is torn from the pod and from Yeola's lungs. She braces her hands against the inside of the pod and gasps uncontrollably. After a moment, the sound of rushing air stops, and she regains her breath in the thinner air.

"I may have neglected to mention that I depressurized the cargo bay," Dukat's voice drawls as Yeola coughs and heaves.

"This…" Yeola gasps. "This is about the holofilter, isn't it?"

"It's about more than just the holofilter! You have been lying to me since the start! Everything that's happened to my people has been because of the Dominion!"

He opens the valve again for a split second, and Yeola, instinctively, scrambles inside the enclosed space, her breath short.

"The Federation went after Gowron, didn't they?" Yeola shouts into the intercom. "And they told you about it. Dukat, Gowron is not a Founder! The entire thing is a ruse designed to drag the Federation and Klingons deeper into war with each other! We're trying to help you!"

"I wouldn't shout. You're running short of air."

"Listen to me!" she coughs. "You know how paranoid the Klingons are! Do you really think we'd be able to have a Founder infiltrate the highest echelons of government without being caught by their screening mechanisms? Believe me, the Founders have tried!"

"I'm tired of your lies!" Dukat says, opening the valve. Yeola scrambles to find it and cover it with her hand, struggling against blacking out, hacking and shuddering. He closes the valve.

In a weak voice, Yeola says, "I thought you were going to turn me in to the Federation. That's why I sabotaged the ship." She coughs again, vomiting in her mouth. "And I was afraid. Afraid of failing the Founders. But…" she wheezes, "I was also afraid to lose you."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're not like other Cardassians," she whispers, taking short breaths. "The other officers we've met – they've been violent, brutish men interested only in their own advancement. You're different. You're charismatic, intelligent. And you actually care about your people. Maybe without you, we could find someone else to lead Cardassia alongside the Dominion, but they wouldn't command the support of the people like you would. It has to be you, Dukat. To be the ruler of the entire Alpha Quadrant. We need you. I need you."

There is silence over the intercom. Yeola continues, "Wait a few days. You'll see I'm telling the truth. Gowron will still be alive, and the Klingons and the Federation will be plunged deeper into war. That's the best thing for both our peoples!"

Still silence. "Gul Dukat?" she asks softly. "Please let me out."

"I'm prepared to wait and see what happens with Gowron," Dukat replies eventually. "But until I'm satisfied that what you say is true, I'm going to keep you exactly where you are."

Yeola's eyes widen. Then she swallows hard and says, "As you wish."

After a moment of silence, Yeola asks, "Gul Dukat?"

"What is it?"

"The Founder Odo. Was he here? Aboard your ship?"

"Goodbye, Yeola," Dukat says. The light from the window goes out and Yeola is left in total darkness. There is a hiss as air pours into the pod. After a moment, Zeni's eyes widen. "Wait. No sedatives? No. No. No. No! Vorta can't be idle! You can't do this!" She slams her hands against the inside of the pod. "Dukat! DUKAT!"

* * *

"And you believe her?"

Dukat downs his kanar, then takes a new bottle from the bureau in his quarters. He refills his and Damar's glasses.

"Her story checks out so far," Dukat answers after taking another sip. "Gowron is still Chancellor, and Captain Sisko and the others are still alive. But if it was a Dominion plot, it seems to have backfired – the Klingons and the Federation have called a ceasefire and have returned to the negotiating table."

"I doubt our people can expect much from those negotiations." Damar shoots his drink and pours another.

"No," says Dukat. "Which is why I think we should return to the original plan. I think the Dominion represents the best hope for our people right now. And I know that not even everyone on this ship agrees with me on that. Which is why we're not going to tell them we're meeting with Gul Madred until after I'm gone. You'll be in command of the ship while the negotiations are taking place."

He lowers his eyes. "Yes, sir."

Dukat peers at him. "I need to know you're with me on this, Damar."

"You know you have my loyalty, sir."

"That's not enough. I need to know you believe I'm right." He takes a padd and hands it to Damar. "Take a look at this list. These are the men Gul Madred has arranged for us to meet."

Damar reads over the list. "There are some impressive names on here. I didn't realize the Detapa Council was so unpopular."

"Many of them are connected to an ultranationalist movement called the True Way, with whom Madred has recently aligned himself. They've targeted some key Bajoran and Federation dignitaries for assassination." Dukat sips his drink. "Apparently they think if they could drive the Federation away and retake Bajor, all of Cardassia's problems will be solved."

Damar laughs derisively. "That's some sound tactical planning right there."

Dukat shoots the rest of his drink and sets it down hard on the table. "You see, this is what I'm talking about. The strategy doesn't even matter for these men. They know the Council is weak, and as long as they can look strong by comparison, they're next in line for power. I can't trust a single one of them. They'll put a fucking knife in my back the minute I'm not looking." He pours another drink. "But you, Damar. You I can trust. Everyone else turned on me – the Council, the military, my wife – but you stayed with me. Fought by my side. If you stand with me now, we can bring the entire Alpha Quadrant under our heel together."

Damar leans back. Slurring slightly, he says, "I don't trust the Dominion."

"I'm not asking you to trust them," Dukat tells him. "I'm asking you to trust me."

Damar stares at him for a long moment, then they both burst into laughter. "No," Damar roars. "No, Gul Dukat, I'm afraid… I'm afraid I don't trust you. I just came with you on this crazy war against the Klingons, where we nearly die every fucking day… well, because it's a great career move!"

"Now, you see, I thought it was for the money!" Dukat laughs. "Or for the tail."

"All of it! All of it! Plus, you know, I just love this cold, dark piece of shit ship." He chuckles, then is silent for a moment. He looks up. "No, sir. You know I trust you. Where you lead, I follow. Always."

Dukat stares into his eyes. "Well, you can't know how much it means to me."

Damar hunches forward and pours himself a new drink. He downs it in one go, and says, "Do you know what I want to see?"

"What's that, Damar?"

"I want to see sunrise over Qo'nos, from the bridge of a Cardassian warship, after we and the Dominion obliterate the Klingon fleet and bomb the entire planet to cinders. Then I want to do the same for every goddamned planet in the Klingon Empire."

Dukat leans back. "That would be nice. Almost as nice as returning to my office on Terok Nor after we secure Bajor again. I hope they try to resist. I'd like to send in the Jem'Hadar to exterminate, say, twenty to twenty-five percent of their population, before I 'convince' them to stop. I doubt we'd see much of a resistance then. Oh, Major Kira would be angry at first. But once we've conquered Earth and Vulcan and the Federation is crumbling, I think she'd realize that by returning her people to their rightful place in the Cardassian Empire, we spared them from a far worse fate. She might even thank me."

"You put too much stock in what that Bajoran thinks of you."

"Perhaps." He stares into space. "Do you think Enesh will take me back?"

"I don't know." Damar looks down. "Caela spoke to her recently and said she's still really upset. She hasn't forgiven you for Tora Naprem."

"She's upset that I let it become public knowledge. She always knew about my affairs. I tried to be a faithful husband, you know. But when I was assigned to Bajor, she wouldn't come with me. Said she wouldn't raise our children on that 'shithole planet.' Her words." Dukat smiles wistfully. "She's a hell of a woman, Damar. So well-bred and elegant, but with a sharp tongue." He chokes, and his eyes well with tears. "I fucking miss her, Damar. I miss my kids. You know… you know, over every single thing that's gone wrong with my life… Father being executed, the withdrawal from Bajor… I always had her. And the kids. And I could come home at the end of the day, and she'd stand with me. Because that's what it means to be a Cardassian. To stand with your family, no matter if everything else has gone completely to hell. Ziyal understands that. She's more Cardassian than any of them. Sweet, innocent Ziyal."

He pauses, sobbing. Leaning back in his chair, Damar mutters something incoherent.

"But it's never going to be the same again, Damar. Men of our age are going to fight with us because they think they can restore the life they had, but it's gone." He hiccups. "We're in the grip of history. And history chose me to be the man to usher it in, whether I like it or not. Like Anjoten the Pure in _Meditations on a Crimson Shadow_. The exile returns, bringing the Legion of the Void to crush Cardassia's enemies into the dust. At the cost of his own soul. But you know, I'll pay that cost as long to protect what little is left. And I'll do it gladly as long as what's left of my family is by my side. Ziyal. And you, Damar."

The other man snores. Dukat grins, and slaps him on the arm. "Wha? I'm awake," he says.

"You should get to your quarters. We've got work to do tomorrow."

"Yeah." Damar stands, then stumbles and Dukat catches him.

Dukat chuckles. "Get home, friend."

"It's been an honour, sir." Damar shakes Dukat's hand. They stare at each other silently, then, slowly, they raise their hands and press their palms against each other. After a long pause, Dukat lowers his hand and whispers, "You should go."

Damar nods, mutters something, and leaves.

* * *

The sleeper pod opens and a hand reaches in.

Yeola recoils, blinking. Her hair is in disarray and her eyes are wide. Then, seeing that it is Dukat, she steels herself and takes his hand, climbing stiffly from the pod and breathing anxiously.

"How long?" she asks, her voice cracking.

"Not long," Dukat reassures her. "No more than a week. You seem to have… survived."

Yeola looks away.

"Come on, we're almost ready to rendezvous with Gul Madred. Get yourself cleaned up – we will be meeting some very important people. I laid out fresh clothes for you."

Yeola follows him into the turbolift. After a long silence, Yeola says, "I see it now. I was wrong to sabotage your ship. I… I almost foiled the Founders' plan."

Dukat looks at her. "You needn't have worried about that – the plan failed on its own. The Federation and Klingon Empire have called a ceasefire. Evidently Sisko and Gowron realized they were being manipulated by the Founders. Perhaps it would have been better if you'd succeeded in killing us all."

"I see." The lift door opens, and Zeni is standing on the other side, looking at them with surprise. She stares at Yeola for a moment, then says to Dukat, "You've taken her out of stasis."

"Hello to you too, Gil Zeni." He walks with Yeola towards her quarters.

Zeni follows. "Sir, I'd like to speak with you." He glances at the Vorta. "In private."

They reach her door. Dukat says, "Make it quick – I have a very busy day today." He beckons toward the door and says to Yeola, "Go."

Her purple eyes peer at him as she subtly reaches into her tunic and retrieves a nearly-invisible microlattice disc a few centimeters in diameter. She places it on her fingers and presses the button next to her door, affixing the device to it. Then she goes inside and pulls out an earpiece, activating it and putting it on her ear.

"…going to Cardassia to negotiate our entry into the Dominion?"

"Yes, that's correct."

Yeola looks around the room. On her bunk is a black catsuit with a communicator armband.

She walks toward the bunk, listening to Zeni's voice. "With all due respect, sir, I think that is a very bad idea."

"Your opinion is noted. Now, if you will excuse me…"

Yeola begins to undress. She stands still for a moment, naked in the dimly lit quarters, and walks slowly towards the tiny bathroom.

"Dukat, please. You know how much I respect you as an officer, and as… well, whatever it is that we are. Please, just hear me out. Cardassia cannot become part of the Dominion. No matter how bad things are right now… there's no going back from that. We're a strong people. We've survived ecological catastrophe, war, famine – we can survive this. We don't need to give up our independence."

She stares at herself in the mirror. She brushes the hair away from her eyes, then splashes her face with water.

There is silence in her earpiece for a moment. Then Dukat's voice says, "I appreciate your concern, Keva. I really do. But you have to think about what we get from this. We gain the Alpha Quadrant itself. Cardassia's enemies will be destroyed, and we will take our place as the rightful rulers of the quadrant."

Yeola pulls the pins out of her hair, then activates the harsh, frigid Klingon shower unit. She turns up the volume on her earpiece as she steps in. Zeni is saying, "Don't you think it's weird that the Federation and the Klingons signed a peace treaty after Starfleet sent its officers to assassinate Gowron? I think they did find a Founder there, but it wasn't Gowron. Maybe one of his advisers."

"I think we would have heard about that."

"Not necessarily. If word got out that Gowron had been manipulated by a Founder, he'd look weak before the High Council. The Federation could have used that information to blackmail him into agreeing to a ceasefire."

"The Founders couldn't have infiltrated Gowron's inner circle. You know how obsessed they are with blood screening."

"They infiltrated the Tal Shiar, didn't they?"

"Keva, you're being paranoid. The Klingons didn't need the Founders to convince them to start this war. Mindless aggression is their nature."

"Maybe so." Zeni pauses. "But I'm also worried about the world we're leaving for the future. Our children will be subjects of the Founders. Who's to say they won't start tampering with the Cardassian genome to make us neutered slaves like the Vorta? If they sent the Jem'Hadar in, would we be able to resist them?"

Yeola steps out, shivering, and dries herself with a rough towel. Dukat says, "I can handle them, Keva. We can handle them. They're not as smart as they think they are. Don't worry about the Dominion."

Yeola stares at her reflection, then tousles her hair, leaving it in disarray. She repeats, "Don't worry about the Dominion."

"I wish I shared your confidence, sir."

Yeola walks back to the bunk and puts the catsuit on as Dukat says, "Trust me, Gil Zeni, I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't think it was in Cardassia's best interest. You were there when the Klingons attacked the homeworld. Those animals in our skies, bombarding our cities, Cardassians dying by the thousands. With the Dominion on our side, that will never happen again."

She takes her disruptors and attaches the holsters to her hips. Realizing their visibility, she takes them off and puts them back in her drawer. She says again, "Don't worry about the Dominion."

She walks towards the door. "I understand that, sir. But…" Zeni stops talking as the door slides open. Yeola steps out.

"Very nice, Yeola," Dukat leers at her. "If that's the shape the Dominion takes, the guls won't be able to restrain themselves. And that uniform will disrupt your Vorta biosigns, and make you appear Cardassian to any sensors."

She looks at Zeni, then back to Dukat. "So are we ready to go?"

"Yes." He turns to Zeni. "My decision is made. History will judge me."

"Very well, sir." Zeni turns to leave. As she walks away, Dukat calls, "History is written by the winners, Zeni. And we are on the winning side."

But she is gone. He puts his hand on Yeola's back. "Now, my dear, let's go meet with destiny."

They step into the turbolift. "Are all of Gul Madred's contacts ready to meet?" Yeola asks.

"Transporter room," Dukat instructs the lift. To Yeola, "You will see."

She hesitates. "I'm glad you've decided to go ahead with the plan. I… I was worried. You were so angry."

"A minor quarrel, nothing more. You made a mistake, you were punished. I, for one, consider the whole matter resolved."

"Thank you, sir," she whispers.

They arrive at the transporter room. Dukat taps his comm unit. "Status?"

Damar's voice says, "Gul Madred reports ready."

"Very good." He activates the unit and taps the console, then guides Yeola onto the transporter pad. "Energize."

On the door control outside Yeola's quarters, the microlattice device melts into a fine condensation.

* * *

"Cardassia. Always a sight for tired eyes," Dukat muses as the pale brown planet looms on the viewscreen of the warship.

At the comm station, Gul Madred says, "I've spoken to my contacts. They will meet us near the Parade Square in Lakarian City."

"Be wary, Gul Dukat," says the warship's commander, Gul Lemec. "Lakarian City has become dangerous. It is overrun with offworld refugees who are desperate and have nothing to lose, while the military focuses on the capital."

"Those refugees will be the key to our success," Dukat tells him, "along with every other Cardassian whose life has been shattered by the war and the incompetence of the Detapa Council."

Lemec stands. "I wish you success. Remember me when you assemble the fleet to go to war with the Federation."

"I will. You have my thanks, Gul Lemec."

Dukat and Madred enter the turbolift. Dukat taps his comm unit, then says to Madred, "Yeola is standing by. She says she was not seen. We will transport her directly from her quarters."

"Good," Madred says. "Tell me, what is it like having that Vorta aboard your ship?"

"Her scientific and technological skill is unparalleled. She's a competent officer, as long as you put her in her place from time to time."

"I've heard that the Vorta are asexual."

Dukat eyes him, saying nothing. The lift doors open and Madred walks to the transporter console, relieving the officer stationed there. He enters the coordinates, then programs the computer to erase all record of the transport. He and Dukat stand on the transporter pad. "Energize."

They materialize in a darkened room, and Yeola appears next to them. Dukat looks around, his eyes focusing on a primitive metal vehicle on treads, armed with several massive cannons. "The Museum of Military History," Dukat observes. "Interesting choice of location."

"The Fourth Order has the city core on military lockdown," Madred explains to Dukat and Yeola, who is looking curiously around the room at the various antique military instruments. "They are expecting demonstrations since it has been exactly three Cardassian years since the Klingon invasion began. Gul Trepar has arranged all our transport here; the Detapa Council will be none the wiser."

"I'm surprised they still allow public demonstrations at all," Dukat says. "Then again, I suppose a government that was brought to power by street protests can't ban such things outright."

Yeola examines a motorcycle fitted with scythed wheels and a crude rocket engine. "Your people have a fascinating history," she says to Gul Madred.

"You like that one, my dear?" he asks her. "It's from the Coal Age, when industrialist gangs vied against each other for conquest of the planet."

She puts her hand on his arm. "I'd love to learn more about it."

In a low voice, Madred says, "You should stay with me on Cardassia. You could learn many things." His comm unit beeps and he turns to Dukat. "They are ready for us. Follow me."

Dukat and Yeola follow Madred up several flights of stairs. Dukat puts his hand on her shoulder and stares into her wide eyes. "What the fuck was that?" he hisses when Madred is out of earshot.

"Madred is an important ally," she shoots back.

He narrows his eyes. "Are you ready for this? You've been acting strangely ever since I took you out of the sleeper pod."

"This is my mission, Gul Dukat," she replies, an edge in her voice. "The Founders have given it to me. I will carry it out."

They enter a room on the upper floor of the museum with a large central table. The walls are adorned by a variety of experimental machine guns, and on one wall, a window looks over the city square lit by the overcast morning light, where a restless crowd is gathering. A group of Cardassians sits around the table in the room.

"Gul Dukat, Yeola," Madred says, "may I introduce Gul Trepar of the Fourth Order, Gul Broca and Gul Benil of the Eighth Order, and, of course, Madam Chief Archon Makbar of the Cardassian judiciary."

"Dukat," Trepar says. "I never expected I'd see you alive again."

"Gul Trepar, you always did say I had a talent for survival."

"And now, look at my former executive officer – a fugitive leading a vigilante crusade against the Klingons. I thought I taught you better."

Gul Broca eyes Yeola. "And what is this alluring creature you have brought us, Gul Dukat?"

"Mind your tongue, Gul Broca. You are addressing a Vorta – an envoy of the Dominion."

Broca snaps to attention. "The Dominion…! Why have you brought one of them here?"

Dukat looks at the officers. "You are all affiliated with the movement called the True Way, are you not?"

"Yes," says Trepar, leaning back.

"Tell me, then – what exactly is it that you hope this movement will accomplish? Do you really think that if you restore the Central Command to power on Cardassia, that our problems will disappear?"

Chief Archon Makbar peers at Dukat. "Our people have been infected by the philosophy of the Federation. They believe that freedom comes from the weak limiting the power of the strong. In that, they are precisely wrong. It is the order of nature that the strong rule over the weak. Once our people remember this, by our will we shall retake what we have lost." Dukat stares at her, and she continues, "And I have some assurances from the Romulans that they will support us in exchange for disrupting the Federation's alliances."

Dukat says, "The Romulans? We can't rely on their empty promises. If we retook Bajor, do you really think they would stand by our side in the ensuing war with the Federation?"

Makbar glances at Yeola. "Have you come to tell us we should place our faith in the Dominion instead?"

Yeola replies, "If Cardassia becomes part of the Dominion, you will have its full might behind you as you purge this quadrant of our mutual enemies."

"At the cost of our independence," Trepar retorts.

Yeola's eyes move between the Cardassians. "The Dominion is a hierarchy encompassing hundreds of races across the Gamma Quadrant. All serve the Founders, but we are a diverse union. My culture, for example, is based entirely on service to the Founders in all things. We serve on Dominion ships and installations, and direct the Jem'Hadar. Other races never see the glory of the Founders themselves, and administrate their affairs in their own way. The Founders desire a special role for Cardassia as the first members of the Dominion in the Alpha Quadrant. You will rule this quadrant as you see fit, subject only to the demands of the Founders."

"And how do we know that these Founders can be trusted?" Broca asks. "How do we know that after the Jem'Hadar pour into this quadrant to help us take it, they will not stay on Cardassia as our rulers?"

"There will be a formal treaty," she answers. "Cardassia's status within the Dominion will be set for all time. The Founders do not renege on their treaties."

"If the Dominion wants control of the Alpha Quadrant, why come to us?" asks Gul Benil. "Can't the Jem'Hadar conquer the quadrant without our aid?"

"The wormhole presents a serious tactical vulnerability for the Dominion. Without a military infrastructure on this side of the wormhole, we won't be able to sustain an invasion force of the necessary size to pacify the quadrant. And the Federation has made clear that they will not allow us to establish such infrastructure here."

"So the Dominion needs us for their war," Trepar muses.

"Indeed, Gul Trepar. And in return for Cardassia's contribution, you will be given control over all of the races of the Alpha Quadrant."

"And if we refuse?"

"The Dominion would be forced to find someone else willing to help impose order on this quadrant," she replies. "The Gorn, perhaps."

Dukat looks around the room. "I know you're all apprehensive at the thought of making Cardassia a part of a larger empire. But look around you. Cardassia's days as a major power in the quadrant are over. Our people are in destitution. An alliance with the Dominion would change on that. We're witnessing the dawn of a new era for our people, and it can either be a time of ruin, or a time of glory for Cardassia."

Benil looks at the others. "No," he says. "I will not hear of this. We are an independent people, and we will never be subjects of the Dominion, or of anyone else." He glares at Dukat. "The people of Cardassia will hear of your treachery, Dukat. All will know of how you tried to sell Cardassia to the Founders. You will be known forever as –"

There is a burst of yellow light, and Benil disintegrates into nothingness. "I am interested in hearing more of this proposition, Gul Dukat," says Gul Broca, holding his disruptor. "Tell me, who would lead Cardassia into this new era? I doubt the Detapa Council will be amenable to this alliance."

"I will be the supreme leader of the new Central Command. If you support me, you will have your choice of positions along with Gul Madred and Glinn Damar."

Trepar turns to Yeola. "Ambassador Yeola, I appreciate that you hold Dukat in such esteem. But the fact of the matter is he has a rather…" he looks directly at Dukat, "checkered reputation. Have you considered going with a less polarizing choice as leader?"

Dukat glares at his former commander. Yeola says, "It must be Dukat. The Founders have made that clear. However, they are also aware that they are asking a great deal of you in asking that you commit your armies to a coup against the Detapa Council. Rest assured, you will be rewarded with anything you desire in the new order."

The two Guls glance at Dukat and at each other. Makbar says, "There will be many who will not comply with this 'new order.'"

"With the Dominion's backing, we will be in a position to return to our prewar borders within days," Dukat tells the judge. "With the addition of the Demilitarized Zone. I think that any lingering doubts will be erased by the jubilation when Cardassia is made whole."

"But what about the coup itself? Do you expect the military to simply allow you to seize control of Cardassia without a fight? Or will you lead the Jem'Hadar against your own people?"

Broca says, "The Eighth Order will stand behind you. As will the True Way, which has sympathizers in the senior echelons of numerous other orders."

"The Fourth Order will support you as well," adds Trepar.

"Gul Evek would have been pleased to hear you say that," Madred says to him. "Gul Lemec and I have spoken to a number of senior officers in the First Order and have their support. The other orders are in no condition to oppose us."

He walks across the room and looks out the window at the growing crowd. "There will be a True Way demonstration in the square today. I plan to address them. Perhaps you do the same, Dukat, to rally them to our cause."

Yeola snaps, "He'll be caught instantly by the Detapa Council. We cannot take the risk."

"Not necessarily," Makbar interjects. "The Council have instituted a ludicrous new policy in which they must obtain a document called a 'warrant' in order to arrest a Cardassian citizen. Of course, the courts have never withheld a warrant. But if I were to do so, then the Council will be forced into a crisis of legitimacy. Either they could allow Dukat to go free, or they could arrest him without a warrant, thus demonstrating their own hypocrisy."

"While the True Way is emboldened by the endorsement of the great Gul Dukat," Broca continues, "and will demand the resignation of the government."

"We cannot take the risk," Yeola protests to Dukat. "They'll kill you."

"They won't kill me. Then I'd be a martyr, and they would be finished. Cardassia needs a strong leader – one who isn't afraid to stand in front of the people in defiance of his enemies."

She hesitates. "Very well. But you cannot mention the Dominion. It's too soon. Tell them to be ready to stand behind you when the time comes." Then she turns to the others. "This is an historic day for both our peoples. In the coming weeks we will negotiate the details of the treaty. But for now, it's enough that Cardassia is becoming a valued new member of the greatest empire the galaxy has ever known. You will be remembered as heroes by your people."

The Cardassians eye each other warily.

* * *

 _Welcome to today's broadcast from the Free Information Service. I'm Dela Prenn, livecasting from Lakarian City, where massive crowds of protestors have descended upon the Parade Square. You can feel a palpable sense of anger here, and the military is making its presence felt with troops and jumpships on standby as the government finds its freedom of assembly laws put to the test once again. Reports say Gul Madred, a leader of the True Way movement, is about to address the crowd. And… I'm getting a read… yes, here he is, emerging on the roof of the Museum of Military History. You can hear the crowd cheering as he steps forward, waving to the crowd. And now… it looks like he's about to speak…_

" _My brothers and sisters… My brothers and sisters… Hello. I greet you on this day of infamy, this day on which we remember one of the darkest days in recent memory. I know that many of you are still suffering from that day. Or maybe you're suffering from later days, when the Detapa Council did nothing as your worlds were hit by the Klingons, as those disgusting animals ravaged your worlds. I know that you are still waiting for justice and for vengeance._

" _I am here today to tell you that your time is coming soon. We Cardassians are a strong people. We are strong of will. Right now, that will is constrained by the perverse Federation ideology of the Detapa Council. They have castrated Cardassia. They have laid Cardassia low, to be raped by our enemies. And as long as we are ruled by elitist cowards like Kotan Pa'dar and by Ferengi-fucking whores like Natima Lang, we will never have our revenge!"_

 _And now the crowd is cheering… Very strong rhetoric from Gul Madred today! The question is, will the government make a move against him today? He's speaking again:_

" _I tell you, there is one man who can restore Cardassia to its natural state. To its true way. And that man is here with me today. The one man who stood up to the Klingons. Who embodies the will of the Cardassian people. That man… is Gul Dukat."_

 _A new development – Gul Dukat is reportedly here on Cardassia today, and addressing a True Way rally! Dukat, of course, is the former military attache to the Detapa Council who is now fighting a one-ship vigilante war against the Klingons in a stolen bird of prey. For him to support the True Way would be a major blow to the government's credibility. Let's hear what he has to say:_

" _Yes. Yes. Friends, fellow Cardassians… it's good to be home. You know, I haven't had decent yamok sauce in so long that I'd forgotten what it tasted like. It's true. It's the small things you miss when you're away from home._

" _Now I understand that many of you have been away from home for a long time. Some of you don't have homes to go back to. I understand that. I too know what it's like to lose everything. Now, admittedly, in my case it was by my own doing."_

 _Gul Dukat joking with the crowd, breaking the tension with some laughter!_

" _But really… but really… we can assign blame for this. We can blame the Detapa Council. All of you know I wanted to believe in the Council. I protected them during the invasion because I wanted to believe that they represented a new day for Cardassia. Was it misplaced? It's easy to say in hindsight._

" _But now, all of us are caught in the tide of history. What happens to Cardassia in the coming months will define us for generations to come. And we, collectively have a choice to make. And our children and our children's children will look back on these times, and they'll see one of two things. They'll see a people riven by internal conflict, a people who doubted themselves at the most crucial juncture and were reduced to a shadow of their former selves by their enemies. A beaten people. Or, they will see a people united. Who stood up and said no. Who said we are going to be the authors of our own destiny._

" _Friends, a day is coming where Cardassia will rise again. From the ashes of our empire, we will strike back at our enemies with a fury this quadrant has never seen. And when that day comes, I ask that you stand by my side. That you join me in this great, historic project. We will rebuild Cardassia. We will take back what is ours. We will make Cardassia great again."_

 _And more cheering from the crowd! You know, I've been to a lot of demonstrations and I can truly say I've never seen anything like this. Gul Dukat's hold over the crowd is magnetic. And it looks like the government has finally ordered the military to disrupt the speech – I'm getting reports of soldiers storming the parade square, and demonstrators throwing rocks… reports of violence coming in now…_

"Wow," Zeni says.

"That's from two weeks ago," Damar tells her, examining data from the _Naprem_ 's interface with a communication relay. "It looks like a lot more has happened since. Daily protests against the government. Even the judiciary is now refusing to fall in line." He looks up. "It's all in motion, Gil Zeni. History unfolding before our eyes."

"The Dominion," she murmurs, staring at the now-still image on the viewscreen.

"Yes. The Dominion."

She turns to him. "Glinn Damar, do you think…"

"It doesn't matter what I think," Damar interrupts. "It's Gul Dukat's decision. It always has been. Not ours."

They stare at each other for a moment. Damar ends the feed to the viewscreen.

She turns back to her console. After several minutes, Damar says, "My father used to say I would never be part of anything important."

She faces him again. Still looking at the data feed, he continues, "You had to know him. He served in the Federation war. His ship was destroyed and he was one of only a few survivors. Spent the rest of the war at a desk job on the homeworld. And he was never quite the same. Drank a lot more. He felt useless, and used to take it out on me. He used to tell me I'd never make it in the military, that I was too soft. That I'd never see a historic campaign like he did. Well, look at me now."

He shrugs. "I guess I should be grateful to him – I never would have joined the military if it wasn't for him. Never would have served under Gul Dukat. And I got an appreciation for kanar from him."

An instrument buzzes. "It's them. Routing coordinates to you."

"Course laid in," she says.

He nods. "Do it."

After a short journey, they rendezvous with a Cardassian warship and Dukat and Yeola are beamed aboard the _Naprem_. Damar meets them in the transporter room, where Yax'et stands at the console.

"Damar," Dukat greets him. He looks around. "I must say, I'm impressed – the ship seems to be in one piece. Perhaps I'm not even needed here!"

"Only a few minor skirmishes, sir. Ran into a bird of prey near the Chin' toka system. Got the jump on them. It wasn't much of a fight." He glances at Yeola, then back to Dukat. "I trust your meeting was a success?"

"It was indeed," Dukat says in a low voice. "We spent the last week finalizing the text. Yeola will notify her people and we will stand by as they make preparations."

Damar nods. "And the Council didn't make a move against you?"

"Without the support of the judiciary, any move they made against me would make me a martyr. I did have to maintain somewhat of a low profile after my speech, of course."

"Has the Dominion technology been installed?" Yeola asks Yax'et.

"Oh yes," he replies. "Glinn Damar and I got it all working nice. Haven't had a chance to try out that polaron weapon yet. Very excited."

"Good," Yeola says. She draws her disruptor and shoots him in the chest. He gasps, clutching his chest, and slumps down the wall. He stares at his shaking hands, which are covered in thick copper-coloured blood.

Dukat grabs the Vorta by the shoulder and spins her to face him. He glares at her for a moment, then slaps her in the face. She falls to the ground. Damar rushes to Yax'et's side. "Damar to infirmary!"

"This is infirmary."

Damar places a hand at one of the Kressari's primary arteries, then closes the dead alien's eyes. "Stand by, infirmary."

"Please give us a moment, Damar," Dukat says through clenched teeth as Yeola stares up at him, wiping blood from her mouth.

Damar glowers at Yeola and leaves the transporter room. Dukat grabs Yeola's Dominion disruptor pistol from the floor, then seizes her by the throat and shoves her against the wall, holding the gun against her neck. "Why?" he hisses.

Unblinking, she chokes, "You know why. He was a mercenary, and his knowledge of Dominion weaponry is about to become a very valuable commodity."

"I trusted him!"

"Well, you shouldn't. He's not one of us. He's not… ugh," she groans as he drives the disruptor hard against her neck.

"You murdered my chief engineer."

"What are you going to do?" she wheezes. "Are you going to kill me? What do you think the Founders will do if you murder their envoy?"

"They'll call off the treaty, and perhaps Cardassia will be better for it!" he shouts. "We'll be spared your lies and manipulation."

"Wrong," she says, her purple eyes staring into his. "The treaty will go ahead. But without you. With Gul Madred, maybe." She struggles as he tightens his grip. "This is bigger than you now. I said I needed you before. But more than anything else, you need me."

Gul Dukat scowls at her, releasing the pressure on her neck. She raises her hand along his neck ridges and face, then leans in and kisses him.

He pushes her back, stunned. "What are you doing? I thought the Vorta were asexual."

"We have no sexual desire, and we can't reproduce. But we used to be like you. And everything is still there." She leans into his ear. "And I want to know what it's like, Dukat. What drives the people of this quadrant. I want to understand."

"You killed Yax'et!"

"Forget about him. This is about us. Show me."

"And if I don't, you'll go to Gul Madred?"

"I want it to be you. All of it. You're a better man than him."

She leans in again, and he returns her kiss, running his hands down her back. He lifts her and sets her on the transporter console, kissing her neck, and she bites his lip.

"You're a quick study," Dukat tells her, accessing the controls.

"I practiced in the holosuites on Cardassia," she tells him, running her finger on the ridges on his forehead. Then he lifts her again, and she wraps her legs around his waist as he carries her onto the transporter pad.

They materialize naked in Dukat's quarters. "Oh!" she exclaims as he presses her against the cold bedroom wall, holding her hands above her head. Then he enters her, awkwardly at first, and she breathes heavily as he thrusts deeply into her. "Oh."

"Is it everything you thought it would be?" he whispers, running his tongue on the auricular fins near her jaw.

"Yes," she says, pulling herself upward and holding his head, her legs still wrapped around him. "I'm so glad it's you, Dukat. I'm going to make you the most powerful man in the quadrant. Ahh…" she sighs again, brushing her hair form her eyes, her face expressionless as he kisses her chest.

"I hope," he says, breathing heavily, "that you'll still come see me."

"I'll come fuck you every day," she tells him. He carries her to the bed, then throws her down and thrusts hard into her. She stares impassively at the ceiling for a time as he grunts, clutching her tightly and kissing her shoulder. Then she rolls him onto his back and mounts him, rocking up and down. He sighs and runs his hands over her chest and stomach. Eventually, he finishes.

She climbs down and lays next to him. "I don't know what holoprogram you learned from, my dear, but I want a copy," he says.

"Was it satisfying for you?" she asks, stroking the ridges on his neck.

"Oh yes," he tells her. "And I hope that it was enjoyable for you as well."

She lies back. "Well, as I said, I feel no sexual pleasure. But… I found it fascinating. All the micro-interactions, the dynamics of power and submission. It's really a form of communication, isn't it? I think you could learn a great deal about a person's true nature this way."

"But surely it was at least somewhat pleasurable for you? You seemed to be enjoying yourself."

She takes his hand and smiles. "This may sound crazy, but for a moment, I knew what it was like for the early Vorta. It was like – for a moment, there was a fire in me. A long dead fire, sparking back to life." She puts his hand on her breast.

He narrows his eyes. "You're lying to me."

"What is it the humans say? Cross my heart."

He rolls away from her. "I'm still angry at you, you know."

She pulls herself close to him and puts her lips next to his ear. "I think I can make it up to you," she whispers. "There was this other technique I learned… it's something Bajoran women do…"

Dukat rolls over and grabs her by the wrist, grinning. She laughs.

* * *

The door to the training room opens and Keva Zeni walks in and takes a _bat'leth_ from the wall. Dukat faces her, leaning on his sword. "Ah! Keva. It's good to see you. I must say, the glinn insignia suits you. You wear it well."

She glances at her uniform. "Thanks. I have to say, I wasn't expecting you to promote me. It's been so quiet lately. It's been months since we've seen any action at all."

She walks toward him in a ready stance, and they begin to spar. "Things are changing," Dukat says. "We're not just vigilantes anymore. We're part of a movement." He blocks her thrust. "Or so Yeola keeps reminding me."

Their _bat'leths_ clang together. "Are you still sharing your bed with that creature?" she asks.

"Occasionally."

Zeni drives Dukat backwards. "You know, I realize we were never right for each other. But you belong with a strong Cardassian woman. Not that Dominion automaton."

"Well, there will be plenty of time for that soon enough. Have you heard the latest from the homeworld?"

"I heard that the terrorists were attacking our worlds near the DMZ with biogenic weapons, but the Federation put an end to it and apprehended Michael Eddington. But nothing from the homeworld."

Dukat catches her blade with his and drives it down. "I've been able to contact Gul Madred using that new comm unit Yeola installed. Apparently this latest escalation of terrorist activity has undermined the last shred of credibility the Council had. Madred and the other guls have declared themselves the new Central Command and have called on the Council to resign. The Council agreed to a temporary power-sharing deal, but have been pushing for new elections." Their blades clash again. "Really, they're just stalling at this point. They know they'd lose in an election – the True Way extremely popular right now. And in the meantime, all the major cities are on lockdown."

"So they finally made it illegal to protest."

"That and more. Ironic, isn't it? It demonstrates that when cornered, despite all their talk of rights and rule of law, a supposedly democratic government will resort to the same measures as the most brutal military junta."

She sidesteps, holding her blade at ready as they circle each other. "So what do we do?"

"Well," he says, "Madred and the others have formalized our agreement with the Dominion. We're waiting for the Founders to signal us, and then they'll send a fleet through the wormhole and we'll secure the homeworld. Then, we destroy our enemies."

He lunges at her, and she catches his blade in hers. Using his momentum against him, she spins, throwing him face-first to the ground.

She holds her sword to the back of his neck. "So that's it, then."

He rolls over and looks up at her. "I know this isn't what you want, Keva."

She lowers her blade. "It used to be so simple. All we had to do was fight the Klingons. We didn't owe anything to anybody."

"And I had you."

She pauses for a moment, then takes his hand as he pulls himself to his feet. "You still have me. You're Gul Dukat – my loyalty is to you. I just… I really hope you're right about this."

A klaxon sounds. "Gul Dukat to bridge."

"Coming, Damar."

They mount the _bat'leths_ on the wall. "You're a good soldier, Glinn Zeni. It's been a privilege to have you aboard. Let's see what Damar wants."

A moment later, they are on the bridge. Yeola reports, "Distress signal from a Cardassian military freighter. They were hit by the Maquis, who stole their cargo and left them adrift. They say their systems are failing and they require immediate assistance." She looks up. "It could be a trap."

Dukat sits in the captain's chair. "You may be right, Yeola. But these are Cardassian lives. We owe it to them to at least investigate. Maintain cloak and set a course."

Zeni sits at the helm, entering the course correction.

"I hope the terrorists are waiting for us," Damar says. "It's been too long since we've been in battle. I don't like all this waiting around."

"Especially since the kanar is gone," Yeola adds.

"Shut the fuck up, Vorta," he barks. Zeni smirks.

They reach the coordinates and drop out of warp. A Cardassian freighter is adrift in the empty space, a trail of plasma venting from its port engine. In the distance, the lights of a nearby solar system can be seen.

"Any sign of enemy ships?" Dukat asks.

"None," Yeola answers. "But if they were cloaked ships here, we wouldn't be able to detect them if their engines aren't engaged."

Dukat leans forward, fingers steepled. "Drop cloak and raise shields, and hail that ship."

The lights on the bridge brighten. "Shields up," Damar reports.

"Channel open," says Yeola. "Audio only."

"Cardassian freighter," Dukat says, "This is Gul Dukat. Are you in danger?"

"Gul Dukat!" a male voice says in Cardassian. "Are we glad to see you! Our life support has been out for hours. Please, can you beam us aboard?"

"Stand by," Dukat tells him. To the crew, "Take us in and drop shields, and lock on to their lifesigns."

Damar lowers the shields, then scowls. "Sir, there's something wrong with these readings. I can't get a lock on anyone."

Suddenly, there is a scarlet burst of energy from the freighter's deflector array. It strikes the _Naprem_ , and the ship glows red under the impact.

"Shields!" Dukat barks.

"They've hit us with a burst of epsilon particles. We can't go to warp or they'll ignite and destroy us!" Yeola says. "They're hailing us again. Visual this time."

"On screen," he snaps. Ro Laren appears on the viewscreen, grinning wryly. "Hello, Dukat. I'm glad our paths have crossed again. You and I have some unfinished business."

"Vedek. What a pleasure to see you again. I hope you don't plan on fighting me in that freighter."

"Actually, I brought friends." A massive Klingon steps onto the screen beside her, with an angular, serrated metal jaw. "Gul Dukat, meet Lord Korag of the House of N'koth."

"You will die by my hand this day, Cardassian _p'tagh_!" Korag bellows.

"I don't have time for this." Dukat turns to Damar. "Fire."

" _Vor'cha_ attack cruiser decloaking off our starboard bow!" Yeola announces.

The _Naprem_ fires a barrage of torpedoes at the freighter. It explodes, and the plasma trail ignites in a stream of green fire.

Damar slams his palm on the console. "They're on the cruiser."

"Evasive maneuvers!" Dukat calls. Zeni banks the _Naprem_ as the battlecruiser unleashes a hail of disruptor fire at them.

"All hands to battle stations! Dr. Ghoren to the bridge." Dukat commands. "Yeola, get down to engineering and start powering up the polaron weapon – it's our only chance against that cruiser."

"Sir," Damar protests, "I have no idea how Yax'et was going to interface that weapon with our computer systems." He shouts at Yeola, "And unfortunately he isn't here right now!"

Dukat says, "There's nothing we can do about that right now, Damar." The ship shudders as disruptor fire pounds the shields. "But if we don't get that weapon online, we are all going to die!"

Yeola disappears into the turbolift as the ship bucks again. "Shields at 68%!" Damar says urgently.

"Return fire!"

The _Naprem_ loops upward, then spins and fires at the cruiser. Its disruptor fire absorbed by the larger ship's shields. Several cannons on the cruiser's aft unload their volleys as the _Naprem_ passes.

"Down to 51%!"

The turbolift opens and Ghoren hurries onto the bridge. "Take the science station, Doctor," Dukat tells him. He taps the comm. "Yeola! Status!"

"The weapon is powering up, sir, but it's going to be at least fifteen minutes before we can use it."

The ship rocks, and sparks fall from the ceiling of the bridge. Dukat shouts, "Zeni, get us away from that ship or we're not going to last fifteen minutes!"

"I can't outrun them, sir, but there's a planetoid not far from here. I might be able to lose them in its atmosphere."

"Do it!"

Ghoren examines his console. "It looks like a _Shehar_ -class planetoid. Mostly ammonia ice, methane atmosphere. A lot of tectonic activity."

"It'll do!" Dukat replies as the _Naprem_ is battered by the cruiser's weapons.

"I can't shake them!" Zeni cries as they speed towards the pale brown world.

"We're losing shields!" Damar calls out.

The cruiser's cannons fire volley after volley at the _Naprem_. The blasts rip through the bird of prey's shields and tear into its hull. Dukat is thrown from his seat as sparks rain from above him.

Zeni says, "Approaching the atmosphere!"

He stands again, gripping the chair. "Take us in!"

The ship swoops into the dense beige clouds as the cruiser rains disruptor fire around them. A quantum torpedo strikes the aft of the _Naprem_ , sending it spiraling out of control.

"YEOLA, GET THAT POLARON BEAM WORKING!" Dukat shouts over the sound of the clouds rushing past the outer hull of the ship. He pushes himself against the inertial forces into his chair.

"I'm working as fast as I can!" she calls back over the intercom.

A glacial volcano erupts beneath them. Zeni banks the ship hard, and they lean against the g-forces as the ship skirts the edge of the eruption, which coats it in a layer of grey ice.

"Get us closer to the surface, Keva – their sensors won't be able to detect us."

"Aye, sir."

The _Naprem_ soars underneath the upper cloud level and weaves between jagged mountains of ice as lightning flashes around them. Torpedoes descend from above, crashing into the craggy surface of the planet and triggering violent eruptions of ice.

"Damar, have you interfaced with the polaron weapon?"

Damar shakes his head in frustration. "I can't figure out how Yax'et got it to work! The damn Klingon computer won't detect that it's installed."

"Keep trying!"

Zeni takes the _Naprem_ into a deep crevasse as disruptor fire scars the planet's surface. All around the ship, there is a deep, resonating boom.

Ghoren says, "They're trying to cut through the planet's surface to trigger more seismic activity!"

Blasts of icy grey liquid shoot from the walls of the crevasse, and the planet is wracked by tremors as more volcanoes begin to erupt. "Steady…" Dukat says.

A torpedo strikes a nearby mountain, and it crumbles into an avalanche of ice in the low gravity. An ice fragment strikes one of the _Naprem'_ s wings, knocking a large chunk from the hull. "Steady…" Dukat repeats.

Finally, the intercom beeps. "The polaron weapon is ready, sir!" Yeola announces.

"Zeni, get us out of here! Damar, I need that interface now!"

"It's still not working!" he shouts.

Zeni says, "Try reinitializing the tactical program!"

Damar taps a few buttons, then looks shocked. "It worked!"

"Fire at will!" Dukat orders.

The _Naprem_ , still coated in grey ice, bursts from the upper atmosphere of the planetoid and fires a blue beam from the deflector array at the bow of the ship. It cuts a deep swath along the hull of the cruiser. It returns fire, and Zeni brings the _Naprem_ into a barrel roll to dodge the salvos, still cutting through the cruiser's hull.

Yeola's voice comes again, saying, "I'm routing the shield generator through the polaron beam's power source! It'll give you shields, but I can't say for how long."

"Do it. Damar, target their engines and fire."

The _Naprem_ streaks along the hull of the cruiser, firing the polaron beam through its shields at its warp nacelles. The cruiser fires back, but its weapons dissipate against the _Naprem_ 's shields.

"It looks like they're losing power. Their disruptor yield is down to 15%," Damar reports. "They're powering engines."

The cruiser streaks forward and disappears in a flash of light.

The crew stares at the viewscreen for a moment, breathing heavily.

Then Damar shouts, "Power surge from the polaron field! It's overloading our EPS relays –"

He is interrupted as the _Naprem_ is wracked by a series of explosions. Consoles detonate around the bridge, and shards of bulkhead burst out in all directions as the gravity fails. Dukat is thrown upwards out of his chair, and deflects himself off the ceiling into the viewscreen as the bridge goes dark.

A moment later, dim red lights go on and he falls to the ground. A klaxon sounds, and he wipes the blood from a gash in his forehead. There is a groaning sound and he crawls toward it.

The sound is coming from Ghoren. He is lying in the wreckage of the science station, his face burned from an explosion. His legs have been severed at the waist by a piece of plating from the ceiling, and his spine is visible.

"Dukat…" he says, reaching for his commander.

"Doctor." Dukat crouches at his side and looks into his eyes. "You're going to be alright."

"Don't lie to me! I'm a doctor," Ghoren coughs, laughing bitterly. He takes Dukat's hand. "Listen to me, old friend… You've… you've got to…"

"Ghoren! Ghoren! Stay with me!" Dukat tells him urgently.

The doctor coughs up blood. "The Dominion… we can't become part of the Dominion…"

"Easy, doctor! Easy."

"No… listen to me. As your doctor, and as… your friend…" Ghoren convulses once more in a fit of coughing. After a moment, he is still.

Dukat kneels over the doctor's body as Damar climbs to his feet, then helps Zeni remove a beam which is pinning her to the floor. Eventually, a hatch opens and Yeola climbs out with a fire extinguisher. She sprays a small fire in the ops console, then turns to Dukat. "I've just received word from the Founders. We are to proceed to Terok Nor. One of them will be waiting for us."

"I'll contact Sisko and tell him we need repairs," Dukat replies, still gazing at the doctor. "He was one of my oldest friends. The best doctor I've ever met, and a truly decent man."

Damar and Zeni look on. Yeola is silent for a moment, then says in a low voice to Dukat, "I am going to take some of the men out onto the hull in environmental suits. We can use hand disruptors to manually sweep away the epsilon particles."

Dukat nods. The Vorta backs away as the Cardassians pay their respects to their fallen comrade.

The _Naprem_ drifts slowly in orbit of the planetoid, in a cloud of debris.

* * *

"May I join you?"

Zeni looks up from her datapad. A Starfleet officer is standing at her table, an attractive young Trill holding two glasses of a dark liquid. Zeni replies, "Of course."

The officer sits down and glances around at the variety of species milling about Quark's. She says, "You missed quite the incident a few minutes ago."

"Yes, I ran into Dukat and Ziyal on my way here. You have to understand, we've been under a lot of pressure lately. We've lost some good people." She takes a sip. "What is this? It's good."

"Saurian brandy," the Trill smiles. "Finest the Federation has to offer." She extends a hand. "Jadzia Dax."

"Keva Zeni." They shake hands.

Dax takes a drink, then says, "I was talking to Chief O'Brien. The repairs are going well, and he was telling me about some of the upgrades you've made to your ship. Seems like you've been through a lot."

"Yeah, you could say that. I almost forget that there was a time when I wasn't single-mindedly fighting the Klingons and the Maquis."

"We've had some trouble with them ourselves," Dax tells her.

Zeni cocks her head. "Really? Have they destroyed your economy? Forced you to abandon your homes? Slaughtered your friends and loved ones?"

Dax frowns. "No, I suppose not."

There is a long silence between them as Zeni stares at her drink. Then she says, "It's not your fault. It's just – you're looking at us from inside your safe, orderly Federation, and you think you can judge us, and the things we do. You've never had to struggle for your very survival, against resource shortages, against a galaxy full of enemies. But that struggle is the essence of what it is to be Cardassian. And now… things are happening on the homeworld. And again, I know the Federation is going to lay judgment on us. Which is easy to do, from where you sit."

Dax sips her brandy. "I've heard the civilian government is in trouble."

"That's putting it mildly."

She swirls her drink. "You know, you remind me a lot of the first Cardassian I ever met. You've probably heard of him. Iloja of Prim."

Zeni nearly chokes on her brandy. "What?"

Dax smiles. "It was my second host, Tobin Dax. Tobin and Iloja were both exiles at the time, living on Vulcan. It was a time in my people's history before we were part of the Federation. Tobin's predecessor was part of a democratic government, but things took a turn for the worse after a brief war with the Bolians. Tobin had to watch as a group of hyper-nationalist symbiont aristocrats took power and dismantled everything he believed in. So he fled to Vulcan and found a kindred spirit in Iloja. Tobin didn't have much in common with him, but Vulcan society wasn't too welcoming at the time, and at least he was willing to talk about something besides logic."

"I'm familiar with some of Iloja's poetry from his time on Vulcan," Zeni says, leaning forward. "I was part of a revolutionary choir which sang some of his works when I was at the military academy."

"I think he would have liked that. He was quite a musician himself." She finishes her brandy, and signals a waiter for another round. "The thing I remember most about Iloja was his optimism. Despite everything that had happened to him – the fall of the First Republic, his exile – he still believed in a better future. 'Cardassia's history is an epic poem,' he used to say, 'full of tragedy and sorrow. But there are many stanzas yet to be written.'"

"That's remarkable," Zeni breathes. She takes a second brandy from the waiter, then looks at Dax. In a low voice, she says, "Look – I know I shouldn't ask you this. But… um… I may also be looking to spend some time outside the Union. Soon. What's happening on Cardassia – I just don't think I can be a part of it. I'm a good pilot, and have a lot of experience."

Dax nods. "I may be able to help you. My good friend Morn is a freighter captain, and he's always looking for good crew members. He's a bit of a larger-than-life character, but he treats his crew well, and the pay is good. I can introduce you to him."

"Thanks, I appreciate that." Zeni shoots the rest of her brandy. "But first – I need to see things through with Dukat. I owe him that much."

"I understand. I'll give you my contact information. You can reach me when you're ready."

"Thank you, Jadzia." She pauses. "And…"

"Don't worry – this is all in the strictest confidence. As far as Starfleet is concerned, this conversation never happened."

"Excuse me," says a voice from behind them. "May I have a word?"

The two women look up. "Garak," Dax scowls. "Were you eavesdropping?"

"Certainly not." He eyes Zeni. "I merely observed a certain… malaise on the part of the young lady here." He sits next to them. "One develops an eye for these things. If I'm not mistaken, it's the malaise of a patriot who is troubled by recent developments – a sentiment I happen to share."

"I don't have anything to say to you," Zeni says curtly.

"Then allow me," Garak says, leaning in. "I find myself deeply alarmed by the rise of this so-called 'True Way,' and I don't believe I'm alone in my apprehension. I have the distinct impression that this is not merely another military junta – that something far more sinister is afoot. And when one finds trouble among our people," he lowers his voice, "one also often finds our mutual friend Gul Dukat."

"You must be really desperate, reaching out to me like this," she tells him.

"It's true that under normal circumstances I would prefer a more delicate touch. But these are not normal circumstances. One finds one's loyalties put to the test. Duty to one's commanding officer versus the greater obligation to the good of one's people."

She scowls at him. "Maybe you're having a crisis of loyalty, Garak, but my allegiances are crystal clear. A Cardassian's first duty is to her family. Gul Dukat is family to me. There's nothing more to discuss."

"Really, my dear, I would implore you to reconsider. I don't know precisely what Dukat is up to but I cannot escape the feeling that –"

"Garak!" Dax interrupts. "You heard her. Fuck off."

Garak stands, his head held high. "Really, Commander, there is no need for such crudity, especially towards your tailor who, after all, can ensure that you pay the price through unflattering hem-lines." He turns to Zeni. "Goodbye, Glinn Keva Zeni. I do hope we meet again."

He leaves, and Dax grins at Zeni. "He's really not that bad, once you get to know him."

"I've heard otherwise," Zeni says. She reaches for her latinum, but Dax holds up her hand. "It's on me."

"Thank you, Commander."

"Call me Jadzia." They stand to leave, and Dax says, "Things did get better for my people, you know. Not in Tobin's day, but in time they did for us, and they will for your people too. History is moving us all towards a more enlightened state."

"I hope you're right."

Dax smirks. "Trust me. I'm right."

* * *

Dr. Bashir walks through the dimly-lit corridors of the docking ring.

He rounds a corner, and suddenly he is Gul Dukat. He reaches an airlock, enters a personal access code, and enters the _Naprem_. A pair of soldiers salute him as he passed them and enters an airlock.

"Cargo bay."

The lift descends, and then he reaches the cargo bay, where a soldier stands guard. He nods at Dukat and releases the lock on the door.

He walks into the darkened cargo bay to an access panel on the wall. He enters his authorization, and the wall slides open and a sleeper pod emerges. With a hiss, it opens, and Yeola wipes her eyes and sits up.

"Oh," she says. "It's you. Are we finished? Was it a success?"

"Yes," Dukat replies.

"Good." She looks around, then scowls. "Wait. Why aren't we moving? Have we met our rendezvous with the fleet?"

"All in good time," he says as she climbs out of the sleeper pod. "But your work is done."

"What?" she asks, her brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Dukat says, shimmering into a golden liquid and re-forming in the likeness of a Vorta, with many arms and a golden light emerging from its body and eyes, "That you have done well, Yeola, and you have completed your mission to the satisfaction of the Founders."

Tears well up in her eyes, and she falls to her knees, holding her open palms upwards. "Founder… I… I am humbled to be in your presence…"

"You have completed your mission, and we are pleased," it repeats. "You have done a great service to the Dominion, one which will resonate throughout history."

"Thank you," she cries, her voice little more than a whisper.

"Now," it says, crouching before her, "your work is done. Rest now."

"Yes, Founder." She reaches behind her ear and activates an implant. With a spasm, she falls forward into the Founder's arms.

Yeola gazes up at the Founder as it cradles her in its arms, its light reflecting in her purple eyes. It says, "Rest now, child. The blessings of the Founders are upon you."

Then she is dead, a look of ecstasy frozen on her face.

"You didn't have to do that," Dukat says from across the room.

The Founder sets Yeola down, then assumes her likeness. "Vorta tend to become unpredictable when left among the solids for too long. She's been among you in the Alpha Quadrant for over a year – the longest a Vorta has been undercover in centuries. It is standard procedure that she be deactivated."

Dukat walks towards it, eyeing Yeola's corpse. "I assume everything is in order?"

The Yeola-Founder reaches into its chest and pulls a datapad from within it. "We have reviewed the treaty. It is to our satisfaction. By the word of the Founders, Cardassia is made member of the Dominion for now and for all time."

"Cardassia bows to the eternal will of the Founders," Dukat swears. "We are one within the Dominion, the neverending order of things."

"Then receive the blessing of the Founders," it affirms. "By our order, our fleet will enter this quadrant. We will secure Cardassia. In time, the whole of this quadrant will be brought to heel, under the rule of the Cardassians, subject only to our will."

Dukat takes the datapad and enters his thumbprint. "It is done, on behalf of the Central Command of the Cardassian Union."

The Founder inspects the document. "Congratulations, Dukat. You are leading your people into a new era."

"Thank you, Founder. It is an honour to serve you."

"Now, you will stand by. I have instructed the fleet to enter the quadrant in three hours. When they arrive, you will liaise with the Vorta in command. His name is Weyoun."

"Very well," Dukat says. "I must warn you – the crew of this station is planning to seal the wormhole using their graviton emitters."

"They will not succeed."

"I understand."

The Founder glances once more at Yeola's body. After a long pause, it says, "You will never meet another like her again. We have decided to discontinue her line. It is difficult to develop a Vorta with the right characteristics for long-term deep cover operations."

"I thought she did an admirable job," he says.

"Fascinating." The Founder stares at the body for a moment. Then, without a word, it leaves.

Dukat re-reads the treaty on the datapad. Then he walks to a nearby storage unit, retrieves a tattered, ancient scroll, and leaves the darkened room.

* * *

" _You might ask: should we fear joining the Dominion? And I answer you, not in the least. We should embrace the opportunity."_

Led by the _Naprem_ , the Dominion fleet drops out of warp near Cardassia and advances towards the planet. The remnants of the Cardassian fleet mobilize to intercept the armada. Then, one by one, the ships fall in line behind the invaders. A few scattered warships attempt to flee, or to make a run at the _Naprem._ Within moments, they are obliterated by disruptor fire from the other Cardassian vessels.

" _The Dominion recognizes us for what we are – the true leaders of the Alpha Quadrant."_

The _Naprem_ flies low over the capitol complex. Inside, the Detapa Council members huddle behind a few remaining loyal officers. The main door is forced open, and Dukat and Damar lead a squad of Cardassian soldiers into the room, flanked by several units of Jem'Hadar. Dukat shoots a gul who is in command of the Council's security detail. Soon, the council members are escorted out by Dukat's men, hands clasped over their heads, eyes cast down.

" _And now that we are joined together, equal partners in all endeavours, the only people with anything to fear will be our enemies."_

Dukat raises his arms to uproarious applause from the vast crowd assembled in the capital square, Weyoun and Damar by his side. Small counter-demonstrations throughout the city are broken by Cardassian soldiers, who beat the protestors and lead them away into jumpships.

" _My oldest son's birthday is in five days. To him and to Cardassians everywhere, I make the following pledge: by the time his birthday dawns, there will not be a single Klingon alive inside Cardassian territory…"_

Cardassian and Jem'Hadar troops overrun a Klingon position on a desolate planet, slaughtering the warriors defending the line. In the distance, Klingon transport ships launch into the sky, only to be sent crashing down in burning pieces by blue energy beams from orbit.

"… _or a single Maquis colony left within our borders. Cardassia will be made whole."_

An agricultural colony on an idyllic planet is devastated by orbital bombardment. At a nearby cave entrance, a ragtag group of fighters crouches behind a line of barrels, exchanging fire with Cardassian troops. Behind the fighters' line, a team of Jem'Hadar appear. They open fire, leaving the Maquis' blood splattered on the barrels.

" _All that we have lost will be ours again, and anyone who stands in our way will be destroyed. This I vow with my life's blood. For my son. For all our sons."_

* * *

Dukat stares ahead, fingers steepled, as the _Naprem_ approaches Bryma, the Cardassian-Dominion armada looming behind it.

"It's good to be back, isn't it?" he asks Damar and Zeni.

"A beautiful thing, sir," Damar replies. He grins, looking around the ship. "And I've got to say, those Jem'Hadar engineers did great work re-installing the Dominion technology. I'd like to see the Maquis try to take us on now."

"It took quite a lot of convincing. In some ways, Weyoun is more obstinate even than Yeola was. He insisted we retire the _Naprem_ in favour of one of the Dominion cruisers. But it's not the same."

"No, it's not. Also, his ass isn't as nice as hers was."

Dukat chuckles. "Well, he'd better get used to the way we operate. I'm planning on moving our military headquarters to Terok Nor once we retake it. There are too many people on Cardassia who want to –"

The turbolift opens and Madred steps out. Dukat meets Damar's eye and bobs his head toward Madred. Damar nods in understanding.

"Have we almost arrived?" Madred asks.

"Yes, sir," Zeni reports. "I'm reading a large number of _Condor-_ class fighters. Seventeen… make that nineteen… twenty-three ships, sir."

"So," Dukat says. "They're making their last stand at Bryma. Looks like you'll get your wish, Damar."

Zeni's console beeps. "One more ship incoming, sir. It's a Federation ship. The _Enterprise_."

"It just keeps getting more interesting, doesn't it?" Madred asks. "I appreciate that you agreed to my presence on your flagship, Dukat."

"You have the best seats to watch as history plays itself out. Drop us out of warp, Keva, and signal the fleet."

"Yes, sir."

The Maquis fleet waits in formation in front of Bryma, while the _Enterprise_ , illuminated by Bryma's star against the blue-green glow of a faraway nebula, orbits the planet. Its transporters beam up panicking citizens from the city below by the dozen.

The _Naprem_ drops to impulse, followed by a wall of Cardassian and Dominion warships.

"Hail them," Dukat says.

"Channel open."

The viewscreen changes to a split between Ro Laren and her mostly Bajoran crew on one side, and Picard and the _Enterprise_ crew on the other.

"Hello, Picard," Madred says.

"Gul Madred," Picard says, looking pale. "Listen. We are not at war. It is not too late for us to come to a diplomatic solution."

"The time for negotiation has ended, Captain," Dukat tells him. "We are retaking Bryma."

"Do you realize what you've done, you maniac?" a handsome bearded officer next to Picard shouts. "You sold the Alpha Quadrant to the Dominion!"

"We are retaking what is ours."

"Come get it, then," Ro glowers at Dukat. "I'm ready to meet the Prophets."

She ends the channel, and Dukat signals for Zeni to do the same. "All ships… attack pattern Dukat seven."

The ships fan out, engaging the Maquis ships as the _Enterprise_ fires a suppressive spread of quantum torpedoes, still transporting civilians from the surface. The Dominion ships assemble in a tight formation as the _Naprem_ and Cardassian warships flank them, keeping the Maquis ships at bay.

"Something's decloaking off our port bow," Damar reports. "A _Vor'cha_ -class attack cruiser. It's Korag's ship, sir. And two birds-of-prey."

"Move to engage them, and signal Gul Broca to join us."

"Aye, sir."

The _Naprem_ swings in a wide arc towards the Klingon ships, backed by six _Galor-_ class warships. They engage fire, and the _Naprem_ 's polaron beams destroy one of the birds-of-prey.

"Coming around for another pass," Zeni announces. "I'm getting another ship incoming. The Vedek's ship." Her eyes widen. "Oh shit. Shit."

The Maquis ship catches the _Naprem_ in the middle of its arc. The bow of the fighter strikes the _Naprem_ 's port wing, crumpling it as it drives towards the body of the ship. Then it crashes through the _Naprem's_ engineering section, triggering a massive explosion as the warp core ruptures. The fore hull module of the ship is thrown free, spinning through space. Ro's ship dissolves into a shower of flaming wreckage.

On the wrecked bridge, klaxons blare, nearly drowned out by the hiss of atmosphere escaping from microfractures in the hull. Dukat climbs to his feet, glances at the wreckage of the command chair, then scans the ruined consoles for Damar. He finds him disoriented on the floor, and helps him up. Nearby, Zeni uses the wall to climb to her feet, grimacing as one of her knees bends at an unnatural angle.

Dukat examines one of the few operational interfaces. "The hull's been irradiated from the core breach," he shouts at Damar. "The fleet won't be able to beam us out of here! We need to get to the environmental suits and abandon ship!" He gestures at Zeni. "You help her! I'll find Gul Madred."

Damar nods, and braces Zeni as she hobbles across the bridge towards a lift. Seeing it is not operational, he helps her into a maintenance shaft.

Dukat searches for Madred in the flickering light. Seeing a pair of legs protruding from behind a wrecked bulkhead, he investigates, and is confronted by the barrel of Madred's disruptor.

"There are two ways we can do this," he says dispassionately. "You can take me to the environmental suits, and I'll disintegrate you. Or you can refuse, and I'll shoot you in the leg and you can die slowly as the bridge depressurizes."

Dukat holds out his hands. "Why are you doing this?"

"Do you really not know? The Dominion thinks you die on your ship. You become a symbol. I become leader of Cardassia."

"Alright. Well, don't shoot. I'll take you there."

Madred climbs to his feet. Hands above his head, Dukat approaches the maintenance shaft.

"Slow," Madred barks. "I don't want to run into Glinn Damar in there."

Keeping his eyes on Madred, Dukat climbs into the shaft. Madred follows close behind, disruptor trained on him.

They crawl through the dark, groaning maintenance shaft, and then emerge on the next deck below in the middle of a corridor. Dukat climbs to his feet, then looks down the corridor and freezes. Madred climbs out behind him, disruptor pointed at Dukat's head. Seeing his expression, Madred follows his gaze.

Korag stands in the corridor, with a disruptor in one hand and a _d'k tagh_ in the other. He grins, his face twisting around his metal jaw in a grotesque grimace.

Madred moves to train his disruptor on Korag. The Klingon shoots first, his disruptor blast obliterating Madred's forearm. Madred stares at the bloody stump of his arm in shock. Korag hurls his dagger, and Madred howls in pain as the blade embeds in his eye socket. Then the Klingon strides forward and seizes him by the neck, bellowing as he rips out Madred's throat.

"GUL DUKAT!" the Klingon roars as Dukat gapes at the bloody display. He grins. "I have waited for this day."

There is an explosion somewhere in the bridge module, and the gravitational centre shifts, throwing Korag and Dukat to the floor. Dukat climbs to his feet first, and stays low as he runs through the wreckage of the corridor, dodging Korag's disruptor fire. The Klingon's boots thunder behind him as he rounds a corner.

He comes to a twisted ruin of a bulkhead blocking the corridor, and searches in vain for an opening to crawl through. Then he turns and faces Korag, who advances forward, laughing derisively.

"Like a cornered _p'tagh_ ," Korag taunts him. He draws his _bat'leth._ "Now I will fulfill my blood oath."

There is a flash of disruptor fire, and Korag's head explodes in a spray of blood. His jaw bounces off the wall, then clatters to the floor near a pair of boots. Damar, clad in an environmental suit, holsters his disruptor and extends a hand towards Dukat. "Come on. There's an airlock around the corner."

"Impeccable timing, Damar." Dukat follows him, and Damar opens a panel on the wall and hands him an unused environmental suit. As Dukat dons the suit and engages the life support, the bridge module shudders under another explosion. The airlock breaches, and Dukat and Damar are sucked out into the silent emptiness of space.

They drift away from the twisted severed head of the _Naprem_ , and spin to face the nebula in the distance. Only a few Maquis ships remain, scattering before the armada's onslaught as blue beams streak through space around them. Further in the distance, the Klingon attack cruiser is pulverized by disruptor blasts from a Cardassian attack wing, breaking apart in a green flash.

They turn end over end in the frictionless emptiness, and Dukat catches Damar's eye. Beyond Damar's head, the _Enterprise_ , hounded by Jem'Hadar attack ships, finally breaks away from Bryma and goes to warp.

Then they dissolve, and reappear in the transporter room of a Dominion ship next to Zeni. They remove their helmets, and Dukat looks up at the Jem'Hadar operating the transporter.

"Thanks," he says. The Jem'Hadar says nothing, and Dukat points to Zeni. "Get her to the infirmary."

The alien picks her up, and she turns to Dukat as she is carried from the room, a glazed look on her face. Then Dukat helps Damar to his feet, and says, "Engage internal transport to bridge."

They materialize on the bridge of the warship. Weyoun faces them.

"Where is Gul Madred?"

"We couldn't help him," Dukat says to the Vorta.

"Pity." He steps forward. "Have the Maquis all been destroyed?"

"Yes," a Jem'Hadar crew member reports. "The Maquis colony is undefended. Three hundred twenty four thousand colonists remain."

Weyoun hands Dukat a VR headset, and he activates the device. Pieces of wrecked Maquis and Klingon ships seem to float directly before his eyes, while Bryma looms in the distance.

Slowly, he steps forward. A severed wing of a Klingon bird-of-prey drifts in the armada's path. Dukat glances backwards, and sees Damar close behind him, struggling with his headset.

"Our Jem'Hadar ground forces are standing by," Weyoun informs him. "What shall I tell them?"

Dukat looks down. Then, raising his eyes to the planet, says, "Kill them all."

Bryma's sun breaks over the planet's horizon as the armada positions itself over the undefended colony.

* * *

"I left the military shortly after that. He gave me a full honourable discharge. He said I was never the same after the destruction of the _Naprem_ , but that's not what it was. It was those colonists. I couldn't stop thinking about them." Zeni looks up. "I still think about them."

Admiral Kira says nothing for a long time. Bashir strokes his beard. "And that's why Garak had you exiled. Because of the truth."

"Like I said, Dukat makes a good scapegoat." She swallows. "But it wasn't just him. It was all of us. We let it happen. And we can never move forward as a society until we accept that."

Kira sits down and handles the baseball. "You knew I'd be willing to talk to you, didn't you?"

"I had a feeling."

"And I suppose you're going to ask me to go back to Cardassia with you. To confront Garak."

"You helped free my people from the Dominion. You're a hero. He could never move against you."

Bashir says to Kira, "Starfleet has believed for years that there's a pro-democratic Cardassian underground interested in a return to civilian rule. If you visited Cardassia, it could invigorate the movement. It could even lead to Cardassia becoming a member of the Federation."

"I guess Dukat was right about one thing. There's a connection between our peoples." Kira smiles wryly. "Can you imagine? Cardassia and Bajor, going from occupation to membership within the Federation together, within the span of one lifetime."

"I've never been able to forget what Jadzia said to me," Zeni confesses. "'History is moving us all towards a more enlightened state.'"

A look of sadness crosses Bashir's face. Kira takes the baseball from the desk and spins in her seat, examining the ball against the backdrop of stars through the office's porthole. A ship is moving towards the wormhole, and it bursts forth in a dazzling array of colour.

 **Thanks for reading! DS9 has always been my favourite of the Treks, and this was my attempt not only at trying to tell a story the show just hinted at, but also an attempt to envision what the show would be like on contemporary TV. Hence the M rating - it makes it feel a bit less "Trek" perhaps, but I thought it might work for a story about Dukat.**

 **Hope you enjoyed! Feel free to drop a review.**


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